Bone Tired

Bone Tired

I am really, genuinely, bone-numbingly tired today. I mean, I’m so tired every time I hit a key on this ‘board it feels like some has strapped a marshmallow to it. I can trace my skeletal structure through the dull sensation of not having any sensation. I feel like I could probably sleep for at least a couple of days without a problem. Guilty but sound sleep, achieving nothing more than an idealised state of relaxation, from which I might hope to emerge, like a butterfly, renewed and filled with possibilities.

Friday night I stayed up moderately late for Comic Relief, but recorded much of the very late content. I made a donation and raised money with cake sales during the day, but I sort of felt the programme itself treaded water. Yes, I loved the new (short) Who, Smithy, MasterChef, the Inbetweeners and anything with Davina in it, as well as a few other bits. Yes, I found all the real world stuff painfully touching. But, somewhere along the way, despite raising a lot of money, the flow of the programme and the ‘funny stuff’ didn’t quite do it for me. The most memorable content definitely related to real world suffering – which probably might be the right way round.

Saturday I helped price some books for a charity shop, fixed some web-based issues, did some reading, had a walk and ended up staying awake till long past midnight because my son had friends around. They got bored about 11PM. I know they got bored because they got louder, more restless and started playing silly games (teenage boys playing truth or dare…). On the plus side, staying up that late meant I had a chance to play some console games; but, it also meant pushing towards the ‘wall of sleep’ a little too hard.

Sunday I took slowly, but still managed to rise before 8AM. More web work, edited a letter to a local MP regarding the activities of the local primary care trust and cuts to the prescription options for coeliacs, and freehand sketched some weeds/herbs for my book on beggars. The latter I’m doing as an appendix to the main volume and I really enjoyed doing it. I roughed the image out in pencil, inked it, scanned it, then cleaned it up in PhotoShop. Yes, I had to sketched from pictures on the Internet, but I will be using real live daffodils from my own garden when I get around to doing those. I managed to get Mullein and Common Marigold done. Therapeutic.

Somewhere along the way, however, I didn’t get enough sleep. I now regret this oversight!

Current Reading:Ten Little…‘ (the ethnically insensitive version), Agatha Christie; ‘The Lost Symbol‘, Dan Brown

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