It was fun for a while to not have to be creative with anything other than excuses to not get out of bed, not pick up the phone and not engage with anything that required more than the minimum of effort.
I decided to ignore my problems, responsibilities and issues and take the high road instead, and the high road led me straight to my bed, took off my clothes, brushed my teeth and pulled the covers over my head.
Apathy and sloth are very good bed fellows and as long as you change the sheets, they'll stay until you grow tired of them ( which is confusing in its self as neither of them have the energy or inclination to get up anyway). It turned out to be one of my most enjoyable threesomes ever and not one of us had to sleep in the wet patch.
All three of us took a shot of despondency, washed it down with some "I don't give a shit" and turned off the light.
I had decided that the only way to do all my thinking was while I was sleeping and I found out pretty quickly that I have a huge talent for shut eye and rolling around like a whirling dervish under the covers.
I've got so good at it, I can be narcoleptic on demand.
I actually dated a narcoleptic once, in fact I only agreed to go out with him because he told me he had the sleeping sickness. At that point in my life I was pretty hot stuff so anyone with looks, quirks and money was fair game. I was thrilled! I was going out with someone with a disability but one that could provide hours of entertainment without excess dribbling or walking with a limp.
I also thought it would be an excellent way to rifle through his pockets for loose change.
I'd sit waiting with wide eyes, just willing him to go asleep at the most embarrassing moment . . .but he never did.
I had fantasies of him falling asleep on the street, behind the wheel of the car, on a roller coaster, in the cockpit of a plane, bending over a hot stove or diving in shark infested waters but it never happened, most probably because he was a parking attendant from Croydon.
When I asked him why he never fell asleep like he'd promised me he looked confused and said "I do, I have at least six hours every night". I have never felt so robbed or cheated as I did in that moment and I decided he had to go.
In the end I had to tell him to sod off because he just didn't have the talent or the capacity to nod off.
Sleeping is conducive to good looks and youth - anyone who tells you they only need four hours a night is either ugly, insane, a new born baby or smoking crystal meth.
Cases in point are famous "four hour sleepers":
Margaret Thatcher = Meth head
Winston Churchill = New born baby and cigar smoker
Martha Stewart = Career Criminal on crack
Napoleon Bonaparte = Ugly and too tired to have sex
Madonna = She's actually embalmed and has been dead for the last twenty years
Michelangelo = High on paint fumes
Florence Nightingale = Crack whore and busy body (also gas lamp sniffer)
Bill Clinton - Liar, sex pest and ugly
We are at our best when we are asleep, we have the most amazing adventures and we never have a bad hair day.
I regularly used to dream that I was standing behind a curtain while Whitney Houston stood centre stage and mimed to my voice. I have spent so many nights with my grandparents and had conversations that we never had while they were alive. I've also been a little Chinese baby, a Lion cub and I've rode a white pony with wings. I've written classic pop songs in my sleep and I've won the lottery - twice. I've swam to the bottom of the ocean and I had a rather long and successful career as one of the Jackson Five. Robbie William's told me he loved and that he'd never leave me - twice, and I have also back flipped all the way from London Bridge to Columbus Ohio. I've also sucked ET's finger - it tasted like chicken.
Sleep is good and sleep makes things better when being awake is overrated. I've always felt that there is a discipline in being undisciplined, sometimes when it all gets too much it's best to just switch off, zone out and let go. Goldilocks only fell asleep for a little while and she got eaten by three bears. If only the little brat had not stayed up all night cramming for her times table exams (over achieving cow) she'd have realised that the porridge was spiked and been out of that house like a shot.
Just look at Snow White, she knew exactly what she was doing, that bitch fell asleep for so long she had seven kids with stunted growths and beards and she didn't know a thing about it (OK, they were dwarfs not her kids but even one of them was called Sleepy).
The moral of this blog is this - make like Snow White, sleep in and your life will turn out fine! You'll end up being waited on hand and foot by the vertically challenged and never have to rinse out your own lingerie again.
However, behave like Miss Goody Two Shoe's Goldilocks and snooze, then you'll lose. Your porridge will be spiked and you'll get eaten by three greedy ass bears.