Sleep evades me....

I find it hard to sleep. Some nights are fine...I'll fall into bed and feel the warmth of unconsciousness envelope me. But other nights, like last night, I lay awake and motionless for hours. No position brings me comfort. My eyes are tight, and my body relaxed, but still the sound of my breathing persists, and provides the monotonous background to thoughts and mental processes that will occupy my mind in the darkness. I can feel my body fighting the incoming tide of sleep, jolting me back to consciousness just as I am about to give in to paralysis. The incessant time checking continues....2am.....2.22am....as I work out how many hours of sleep remain should I manage to let myself fall....
This morning finds me tired and tearful. Something about the thoughts and near dreams of the night have left me feeling uneasy and disturbed, like I was meant to do something and havn't, or meant to think about something, and forgotten. I spend the morning going through the motions of work, engaging in idle conversation and lying as I agree that "yes, I'm fine thanks...you?"
Perhaps tonight will bring the welcome darkness of sleep....perhaps I'll find it after draining a few mouthfuls of Baileys over a couple ice-cubes.....

Masterchef....?

Sat on the sofa, glass of Bulmers to hand (in a wine glass - gotta keep some class) watching essentially what, at first glance, might appear to be a wank-off between 2 grown men. Yes, I refer to Masterchef - The Professionals, where 3 professional chefs compete with a selection of ingredients to see who can make Michel Roux (and some other bloke) have an orgasm in his pants first.

Don't get me wrong, I am a fan of fine food, and, contrary to tonights choice of beverage, enjoy a cheeky glass of wine, but when did gravy become reclassified as a 'jus'? And what's wrong with a dollop of condiment on the side of a plate? How uncouthe! One must use the back of a spoon and smear it across the plate before strategically placing 3 runner beans on it. And don't get me started on 'foam'.....a white mound of phlegm-like substance sliding round the plate. Should I ever be served a foam, I may tip the chef with a bottle of Benylin.

Tonights offerings in the dessert round all demonstrated another fashion in food - the trilogy. One pud ain't enough (and judging by the miniscule size, that's actually true) so they create a stoyboard of sweet delights, which lead seamlessly from one to the next. A common theme must run through them, be it a flavour, texture or shape, so should you struggle to make a decision as to which pud you want, a plate of all three makes perfect sense (if they were all the proper size)...

So when Michel and his lesser known sidekick taste the produce of the blood, sweat and tears of the shaky handed contestents, one might be mistaken into thinking that you are observing culinery foreplay, as they tease and fondle the food onto their fork, before ever so slowly raising it to their eager lips. At this point, you may feel the urge to change channel (or reach for the record button) as the over-anticipated moans and sighs indicate the immense pleasure experienced by this tiny morsel of food. I feel dirty (and a little hungry) so reach for 2 squares of Dairy Milk to satiate the urge. Ohhhhh yesssss. Mmmmmmm. It's so smooth....and creamy.....and....ohhhhhhhh..........

Oh dear........

Cleaning...

My girlfriend indicated not so long ago that not only did I own alot of stuff, but that this stuff was somewhat strategically strewn about my house. I don't think I have that much stuff - the usual crap in cupboards and drawers, but I don't actually recall putting most of this stuff there...

Example...kitchen cupboard number 1...on closer inspection, this cupboard houses about 8 dozen ikea tealights, a selection of unused facepaints, and attachments for a food processor I no longer own. At some point, I clearly thought that I should store these items together, along with a hoover attachment whose function is unknown, and a chess board with no chess pieces. Should I need to make up a board game using kitchen attachments whilst disguised as a tiger in the dark, I am soooo there....

And the drawer...I have a drawer containing stuff that has no purpose in this life of the next. I have a whole selection of spare buttons that came with new clothes that I don't have anymore. A spare set of cutlery....I don't know enough people to get that much cutlery out, and would never chose to invite them all round at once. And mini screwdrivers...actually, I do remember getting those out of a cracker and thinking how useful they would be to tighten the screws on glasses. I don't wear glasses. But I might one day.

So maybe she was right....but how do you get rid of this stuff? It's one thing to admit you don't want or need it (or even know you owned it) but to actually throw it out? Would I wish any of this stuff on anyone else, if I sent it to a charity shop? Surely that is just passing my burden onto someone else. They may see my kenwood attachments and wonder if they would fit their own food processor, and when they don't (which they won't) will then have to store them in their kitchen cupboard number 1. I can't do that to another human...

So for now I will tolerate these items. I think she may start filtering them out of the house when I'm not looking to see how long it will take before I notice. News flash... I may never notice. I may just be grateful for an empty cupboard and drawer to fill with the black kitchen utensils gifted to me last Christmas, and the stack of post I collect for the previous homeowners which I can't throw away but will never get round to passing on....

Fitness sucks....

So Jack and I got new bikes today...well, not new....I fear they may be subject to more than the usual wear and tear whilst he learns to ride it so second-hand is good enough for now. Now I appreciate it may not be the easiest thing to do, but apparently I was expecting too much to think he could sit on it without toppling over!

As for me, once you can ride a bike you never forget, right? My arse! To be fair I got the hang fairly smart-like, though how long my buttocks will tolerate being astride a 2 inch strip of rubber....who knows.

And the running... never has the saying '3 steps forward, 2 steps back' been more appropriate. Thought I was making good progress a few weeks back but my dream of running in a proper race seems mighty far off. So jealous of my running friends...seems so natural to them and yet I have to think about every step...and breath. Never thought breathing would be such a chore...how can breathing not feel natural??

So that's where I am now...off for a run in a mo, bike ride tomorrow, chaffed arse cheeks by Friday. It's good to have something to look forward to x