Sunday, 15 February 2009

Nanna Had It Right

Written Monday 09/02/09

Almost as addictive as the weekend sleep in and twice as decadent, ladies and gentlemen I give you the ‘nanna nap’.

I was a shuffling zombie corpse at work today. I staggered between my desk and the tea urn and the bathroom, I re-read sentences multiple times, if I didn’t actually smell like the undead I certainly sounded like a member of the grey-skin clan as I responded to questions or comments with a uniform ‘Hurhmmmmm’.
I, of course, had nobody but myself to blame for this.
I got delightfully trashed on red wine last night.
I was light-headed and witty and gay*, well at least in my own mind I was. The main point was that I was having a good time and even though I knew I had to go to work the next day I didn’t want to relinquish that good time.
So I didn’t.
This, or a variation of this, occurs on a semi-regular basis as I often have a hard time denying myself things I really want. Luckily it’s usually things such as the odd sleep in or CD rather than anything hugely expensive or really detrimental. I’ve always known I have a somewhat addictive personality so on that front it’s lucky that I’ve never really been interested in drugs. Besides, considering some people don’t think it’s a great idea that I continue to have access to sugar I think it has been fairly unanimously agreed upon that I don’t need drugs and in fact could bring about the apocalypse if I ever got my hands on them.

Anyway back on topic, I got to the end of the day and I was wrecked, I was still tired, didn’t feel like I’d accomplished anything and could foresee nothing but bad things for the next day if I didn’t fix this.
So I took matters into my own hands. I declared ‘nanna nap’.
This evening at 6pm I eschewed clothing, rolled myself into bed and snuggled down with all the determination of a general in WWII who is sure that if only they send enough of our laddies over the top at Fritz we’ll all be drinking champagne in Paris by Christmas time.
And I slept.
And it was glorious.
The sun was still out, the open window and the gentle breeze was testament to this and yet I was asleep.
There were probably some not particularly engaging programs on television but they had to be mediocre without my company because I was asleep.
The small cabal of people who call me on a regular basis to explain their problems to me as if I somehow know what to do about them despite the fact I never have any of them and think everything could be solved with a liberal dose of Hellboy must have sensed my serenity and left me to my sleep.

In fact I have only just awakened at 11pm, gently and somewhat shame-facedly prompted by my stomach who doesn’t wish to be a bother but does madam remember that during her less than stellar day she didn’t have a particularly edifying lunch and dinner would be appreciated if it isn’t too much bother.
It isn’t. I will have dinner at 11pm. I am nothing if not reasonable.
And then I will go back to bed.
And I will sleep some more.
And it will be awesome.

*Not that kind of gay, the kind your Gran used to talk about. So unless she was in a rather adventurous cabaret group or was living an alternative lifestyle for the time she probably meant 'happy'. And if she did mean the other kind, good for her, go for it Gran(s).

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