I had such lovely plans for yesterday evening, including some lasagne and a couple hours of excellent TV. I ended up sloping off to bed at 9pm with a killer headache.
I wasn’t too upset, assuming that a good nights sleep would see me right. Have I learnt nothing?!
We were woken up at midnight by an incredibly loud and nearby storm. The rain, wind and lightning was impressive – but, now that we live on the 35th floor, all the more imposing. We had to dash out to the balcony and bring in the cushions from the furniture and really, after that, sleep wasn’t going to return any time soon.
I spent the next few hours lying in bed, either reading or staring into space. Not feeling particularly tired, but knowing deep down that my 6am alarm was going to arrive like a hammer blow to the brain.
And so it did.
I fumbled around the apartment, trying to make a start. Happily, TheFrankFlyer had made me some coffee, so I wasn’t a danger to myself for very long. But over five hours later and I’m still a bit broken. I’ve already had a client meeting and run a 90-minute webinar, and still don’t feel like I’ve even woken up.
Ordinarily, I’d look forward to clocking off early and catching up on my sleep, but I’m flying to Edinburgh later this afternoon to see family, so won’t be able to relax until I’m on the plane. I have airport queues and security to contend with first. And in my state, that represents quite the challenge.
So, please – thoughts and prayers as I navigate the rest of Thursday and hopefully make it to Fife in one piece. Where I’ll collapse into one of the most comfortable beds in existence and sleep for 12 hours.
That’s the plan, anyway.