It’s common knowledge that we don’t sleep unless we’ve knocked ourselves into a diazepam induced coma. We usually manage the first hour in bed and the last hour before the alarm and the odd bit in between, but our nights are spent – according to our sleep tracker – being up for hours at a time.
What’s different today is that it is me who is awake and up having a brew. Normally I do the going to bed and know nothing until the morning, and yet here I am. There is nothing immediately apparent that would account for me being here as opposed to someone else – nobody is in any (extra) distress, the phone hasn’t rung, it’s unlikely anyone has come to the door at this time, we aren’t injured in any way that needs me to patch us up, nobody is asking me any of the million inane questions that need answering each day and the animals are all asleep.
S will doubtless be up and out the door in a little over three hours, our CPN is coming at 9.30 and our daughter will be home just after lunch. The only good thing is that we might all manage a decent sleep tonight, and that’s something our physical body desperately needs – ideally without the diazepam coma.