Last evening, I was on the sofa, in my lounge, under my ravaged ceiling, trying to watch television. I truly was trying to do it but my eyes just wanted to close. Heck, it was only 8.pm; I couldn't go to bed at 8 pm! Only kittens, puppies, babies and other oldies (never me!) go to sleep at 8 pm.
At 8.30, I awoke with a start. Still on the sofa. I fumbled to turn off the tv, and staggered into the bedroom.
"I'll be asleep in mere minutes," I told myself.
Suddenly, I was as wide-eyed as a lemur.
I picked up my Kindle. I read a chapter. Then another chapter. I finished the book. 10 pm.
I reached down under my bed for a crossword puzzle book, couldn't find it so had to get out from between my snuggly sheets and burrow underneath the bed. This put me more wide-awake than ever.
I finished a mini crossword, plus one that took up a whole two-page-spread. It was midnight. I turned on NewstalkZB.
I read another book on my Kindle. 2 a.m.
On the radio, they were talking about how terrible Rod Stewart was in concert. So, of course, I had to ring up and skite that I had seen him "in August, that's this very last August, two months ago, at Caesars Palace, in Las Vegas - and he was marvellous!" This call wasted three whole minutes of valuable sleeping time..
I read Debbie Reynolds' autobiography "Unsinkable". My goodness, what trauma she's been through. The book (a real honest-to-goodness paper-paged hard-covered book - from the library) was so rivetting, I was on the edge of my bed, living every second of Debbie's life along with her. The time was 4 a.m.
I drifted off to sleep at 4.30 a.m. Woke up at 8 30 a.m.
I guess we all have nights like this....