I dragged myself out of bed at 7.25am instead of 7am and patted the rabbits' heads for five minutes (they were lying next to one another, which meant I could stroke all four ears and two soft heads at once).
But I'm not sure I can function like this for much longer, even if it is a programme that is meant to be 'hard'. It took me at least 40 minutes to fall asleep last night. I went to bed at P's "earliest time I can go to bed", which is midnight.
I have to get up at 6.40am tomorrow morning and commute for around 1.5 hours, then do a day's work that will most likely involve me being two people. So, I'm going to go to bed at 11.30pm. This is not in keeping with my sleep programme but frankly, if I carry on like this, I won't function at work, which promises to be challenging in good and bad ways.
My head is aching again. My back hurts. Maybe I was grinding my teeth all night. I am deeply fucked off. It's excruciating.
S and I went to a party, which was not entirely successful due to someone accidentally dropping a bottle on my ankle. It hurt loads – and for a long time – and I couldn't get my (tight) boot on again. Excellent.
One of S's friend's eyes glazed over as I was explaining the insomnia situation to her – she even did that thing of looking to see who else was in the room while I spoke.
Unless they've been there, people do not get it – or don't care – or maybe it is just all too boring. But I shouldn't expect them to feel empathy, should I? From now on, I am not going to talk about it to people who don't really, really, fucking well understand. The look of 'Right. What, so you're tired, is that all?' usually followed by 'God, I sleep really well, me,' sometimes accompanied by a little laugh, makes me want to scream.
I was glad it was cooler yesterday so I could wear my Ugg-style boots when I met R. They were loose and soft. She was sweet and great company. We sat by the river and chatted for hours.
I wonder what I should do today. Fuck knows.
they were lying next to one another, which meant I could stroke all four ears and two soft heads at once
ReplyDeleteHey Mell.D.
This is a lovely image. I want rabbits.
I am sure people don't have a clue how debilitating chronic insomnia is, and I share your frustration and rage at misperception of your condition. How dare that woman look around so blatantly when you are explaining!
I hope you don't mind me calling you Mell D, does it sound too much like a Spice Girl?
Jesus. I'm kind of scared to leave a comment now - what a grump you seem to be in.
ReplyDeleteWait. Don't shout. I'm with you on this, okay? I get it.
Anyway, we briefly spoke over at NMJ's blog about insomnia - I was the the spazbucket with too many names altogether, sorry about that - and so maybe it is the very last thing in the world you want to consider right now. I don't know.
Just to be safe, however, I'm going to avoid the subject entirely. I may already have done terminal damage (at NMJ's) anyway, by breezily admitting to sleeping pretty well these days. Not that I'm apologising - why would I? I'm delighted for myself and badly needed the break - but I do hope it hasn't wound you up any further, esp. given your present state of highest grumpsville.
So anyway - Big Brother. I have just spent way too long working my way through your blog. I didn't really mean to as I was only intending to pop over to say hello and apologise for the multi-names thing, but got hooked in by the BB stuff at the beginning. Damn.
I really wish I'd known about you at the time it was on. I confess, I am filthily addicted to that programme, and was to be found indecently trawling the internet looking for related discussions. It is all just so horribly rancid that I simply can't resist it.
I really liked when they did the Jackson Five song. I just did, okay? Get over it. But, quite rightly, I suppose, that was blown out of the collective memory bank by the ugly antagonisms between Jade and Shilpa.
Personally, I thought it was quite a good thing to see these ugly realities aired on TV. Uncomfortable, sure, but no less valid for that.
Is there even a tiny chance that this is working and your mind is being briefly distracted from the screaming injustice of i**o***a? No, I didn't really think so. Bugger.
Oh well, I've really enjoyed discovering and reading your blog today - I'm just sorry that I have caught you in a furiously exasperated mood. I promise you, Mellifluous Dark, that I am very familiar with the atrociously dispiriting and enraging aspects of a sleep-deprived existence. And it is all just too horrible.
I have no idea whatsoever, though, what an Ugg-style boot is. That sounds pretty bad, too, if you don't mind my saying so.
Kind regards etc..... (and you should feel free to use me as a verbal punch-bag, if it helps)
TPE
Hello, lovely NMJ. Yes, they are darlings, they keep me sane. I can only recommend rabbits as pets. They are quiet, gentle and endearing. And one of the buns (the black one) eats tiny pieces of chappati when we have takeaway Indian. She stands up on her hind legs and walks up to me (OK, only a few steps) to get her treats.
ReplyDeleteThe other moves like a dynamo. Not quite the Duracell rabbit – more like a NASA one.
Mell D is fine by me. I like it. And thank you for understanding about my frustration. I know you know of this feeling only too well, having been there in spades. NMJ, I salute you, having read some of what you've put up with in terms of others' ignorance and assumptions.
Tally-ho, TPE!
It's OK. I've calmed down now (but I'm bloody tired, yadda yadda). I am glad to hear that you sleep well these days. See? I am in a positive frame of mind – you are living proof that one can overcome this sleeplessness that we call insomnia and some other people dismiss as "s/he's a bit overtired". Bastards.
Thank you for reading all the way back to the days of Shilpa. My, that seems a long time ago now, eh? I was on all sorts of columns – and *cough* even on the radio – venting my spleen about CBB. I cannot now believe quite how engaged, angered and exasperated I was by the likes of Jade and company.
It is good to know that I was not alone in my obsession, TPE. And again, you have no idea how good it is for me to exchange with the likes of you and NMJ, who really do 'get it' re the i*s*m*i*
You'll both be pleased, and possibly disturbed, to hear that I have kicked the very shite out of a pad at kung fu, my one and only proper hobby, tonight. And I loved it. LOVED it. Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to shout. It's only been six weeks but I feel much fitter and more energised, which as you can imagine, is a Brucie Bonus...
After the day I had, the kung fu was catharsis in action (rather than my usual solution of the written word).
Many positive wishes and good vibes to ye both. If flipping work doesn't supervene too much, I shall reply more swiftly. Work. Tis a pain. And tomorrow, I shall ache...
PS: the Uggs are not my favourite but compared to the skin-tight spike-heeled boots I had on when I hurt my ankle, they are like butter on a hot piece of toast. If you see what I mean.
ReplyDeletehey mell. d, rabbits that eat your sandals and chapattis, too, too cute... i must read your BB posts...sleep well.
ReplyDeleteGoodnight, NMJ. Sleep well, too...
ReplyDeleteThey also eat Cheerios (but only have a maximum of two at once).
Yay. Good to see you’re in a sparkletastic mood, Mellifluous Dark, and kind of Kung fuey, too. This is a good thing, I feel. And the more proficient you become at kung fu as the months pass, the more I think you’ll find me praising you. I’m weak that way, though, and have precisely no intention of getting myself all splattered and kung fu’d by you.
ReplyDeleteSo hello, yes. I think you’ll maybe need to promise not to use the expression “a Brucie Bonus” again. That’s just the kind of disgracefully low brow thing I could see myself stealing from you and using elsewhere – and I’m not sure anyone wants to see that happen, really. (oh come on, you’re only six weeks good at kung fu – I feel sure my ten week course of karate lessons twenty odd years ago could still see me take you in a fight)
Mind you, a degree of goodwill had been generated before the Brucie Bonus travesty with your Yadda Yadda usage. I’m not saying it was enough to make up for Brucie, no, I’m just saying you’re obviously not entirely rotten to the core, that’s all.
Right, it’s difficult to know where to go after such a love-in, but before I forget…...you should visit readingthesigns.blogspot.com. Following my sensationally good recommendation of Ms Melancholy, I feel kind of obliged to patronise you further with yet more instructions about what you should do in your spare time, Mellifluous Dark. Sorry about that, but for some reason you make me think of Signs and I have a feeling you will like her. She is v. freaking good, too.
But wait – sensation. You were on the radio talking about CBB? You wrote columns about it? Am I writing to a sleb, then? I think I am. Yay. I’m writing to a slebrity – just you wait till I tell my girlfriend. (obviously, I’ll miss out the bits where I was mildly insulting and everything, and just tell her that you are, in fact, pretty much Shilpa Shetty, k? Or Dirk – I’m easy)
But it is kind of weird, you’re right, to think how swept up people became in it (myself included). I am always struck by how immediately and completely I switch off from it the moment the credits roll on the last show. It often feels kind of dirty and embarrassing to think I have been sucked in again. And I always promise myself never again.
Nice to hear that kung fu can feel cathartic for you – it is quite easy to see why this might be the case, really. But writing can be pretty useful, too, can’t it? Strange that it should be so, but it definitely is. I could feel your exasperated fury in this post, Mellifluous Dark, and really only feel like saluting you for it. I suppose with people like NMJ and myself, you are at least spared the burden of having to explain yourself. You can just cut straight to the chase and call an unsympathetic bastard an unsympathetic bastard. We’ll just be nodding in agreement, totally behind you, entirely sympathetic and fully understanding of how you have reached this point. That’s a pretty good thing, I think.
Oh – and don’t be worrying about replying swiftly (in the future) or anything like that. I’m forever trying to tell the wretched NMJ that there is no rush, no hurry, take your time etc…(she rarely listens, though – I’m not sure she knows that I really mean it)
Plus, it is sometimes criminally difficult for me to even contemplate writing to people, anyway, so I can be pretty slow myself. And if you see me repeatedly fly by, this is only because I need to always retrace my steps in the same way so that I don’t lose track of where I’ve been. Don’t take it as a sign of impatience, please, as it will never be any such thing.
It should go without saying, however, that I reserve the right to try to make you feel bad about any tardiness in your response times.
No problem about reading all the way back to the Shilpa days of your blog, by the way. I really enjoyed myself, and you are often very bloody funny. It never felt like any hardship reading you, certainly.
Right, enough already. I need to walk to the village and get the papers to see what they are saying about Our Dear Leader announcing his departure date. Bye bye, Mr Blair, you could and should have been so much more.
Will you be watching England v West Indies, by the way? If not, why not? (don’t just say because of work, either – that’s a weak excuse)
And remember to lay off the Brucie Bonus thing, k?
Kind regards etc….
TPE
(this may well be the third time this comment has landed on your blog - apologies if this is the case, I'm having a few computer troubles, again)
Righty-ho, sorry. I looked up Ugg boots and they seem pretty nice and cosy looking, really. I think it is just the name that sounds a bit yucky.
ReplyDeleteUgg boots are going cheaply in Australia, Mellifluous Dark - click on my name and you'll see what I mean. Hurry - bargains. I would even consider (very privately) wearing some of those things myself, truth to tell. Keep it under your hat, though.
Good morning, TPE. And how are you today?
ReplyDeleteHave you sneakily purchased some Ugg boots yet? I sneered when Kate Moss first wore them and vowed that I would never go there. "Me?" I said. "Me? in non-leather, flat boots?!" But then, I hadn't come across the Uggy sheepskins and my word, these boots, which are actually Kiwi-made, are amazingly comfortable. You don't have to wear socks, so they really are like slippers. And I promise, they don't smell. My feet are strange – they don't really - erm - perspire. (Sorry if you are eating breakfast.)
Thank you for your recommendation – I shall investigate the discounts. I feel that my wardrobe needs a black version of the boots. Versatile colour and all that.
I'm glad that my use of Yadda Yadda removed some of the pain generated by my usage of Brucie Bonus. Just consider yourself lucky that I didn't use "Bully Bonus" – or was it "Bully's Special Prize"? – which is what I think Jim Bowen called those dubious prizes he gave away on Bullseye to excited punters. I can't quite recall. Possibly for the best.
But yes, heavens. The after effects of kung fu are quite bizarre. I started sniggering to myself in class and then didn't stop for 24 hours. I had (dare I say this...?) slept fairly well the night following kung fu, which could be a contributing factor. I bow to your 10 weeks of karate but must warn you, I have developed a damn fine kick. I happened upon Uma Thurman in Kill Bill just before going to bed the other day and had disgustingly egotistical thoughts about how good I am planning to become.
I shall take up your recommendation and start reading the signs. Just clicked on and saw the line: "My hair is going pink". It bodes well.
Me, a sleb? Not sure about that, TPE. You may have seen or read some of my stuff (a mixture of all sorts of topics) online or in paper papers, but I am not in the glittering circles of La Shetty. Or even Dirk. Or, erm, Cleo Rocos (what was that all about?!). Maybe one day, I will eventually finish the book I have been writing for - ooh, nearly a decade and a half - and become incredibly well known. Or I may not. I have lots of hobby horses, however, and get very (insert expletive of choice) angry about things like older people being treated like dirt in hospital, and turn my journalistic pen into a sword and am sporadically well-known to those who give a damn about the same things. I've made apathetic heads roll and ache. Very satisfying, but also deeply depressing that change only happens when you expose people's/ organisations' failings. Where is their innate sense of responsibility? Compassion? Of valuing others' lives? Why do they need to be pushed to change? I really could go on...
But, yes, writing can be cathartic and I am well and truly in love with it. Cutting to the chase is something I also enjoy greatly.
It is deeply satisfying to not have to explain and give examples of why and how while trying not to bore the reader/ listener with just how effing bad you feel. NMJ and you definitely make me feel as though I'm speaking some sense, at least. I doff my hair (too early for a hat) to you and the lovely NMJ. (Hair is clean and shiny at the moment, so all's good.)
TPE, I made those promises about CBB. Swore I wouldn't watch it again. Promised I'd stick to The Apprentice. Are you watching that? Isn't Katie awful? She's an older, larger Grace Thingy from BB last year, just older and better-educated, non?
I agree with your Bye Bye Blair sentiment. He really could have done better. It's a shame and a missed opportunity on many, many levels. Hmm.
Have a good day and I promise I shall lay off the Brucie Bonus thing. I may dig up some phrases from elsewhere, though. My mind is now harbouring an image of Timmy Mallett. Oh dear...
Adios for now, best I go and have a cuppa.
Okay. Sorry about the slight time lapse in getting back to you, Mellifluous Dark. I stopped by and saw your response a couple of days ago and was shocked – SHOCKED – to see that you seem to be almost as jabbery-blabbery as I am. Took my breath away, really, and I had to copy your response and take it elsewhere to mull over these most wordy developments.
ReplyDeleteI’ll just get the patronising instructions out of the way quickly today, if that’s alright? It does seem sort of relevant, though. Anna MR (futureofmypast.blogspot.com) can talk the arse off a cow on any subject under the sun. I’m not suggesting that this is something you share in common with her, merely that this is something you share in common with her. Sorted. (you do have to catch her in the right mood, however – although she is usually always so).
Anyway…..I’m not too bad, thanks. Nice to be asked. How about you, O’ Wordy One? (please note that I will not have seen your latest post when I come over to deliver this “letter” – so forgive me, Martial Artist, if your mood is dark or your rabbits have come to any harm. I’m going to try to make the leap into a more recent post of yours soon, I promise, because I don’t want to plague you like I plague NMJ. And Anna MR. And Political Umpire. And…others, anyway.)
So yes, I hope you’re doing okay. Hard to know exactly what you ever feel you have the right to fuss about anyway, Mellifluous Dark, given that you seem to be blessed with non-perspiring feet. (Did you actually just tell me that? Really? Wow – what a total cake you are)
But non-perspiring feet? Crucial, I imagine, when going sockless in an Ugg, like you say. And a welcome surprise, I should bet, for your Kung Fu opponents, as you land energetic kicks around their cheeks. Unless you wear your Uggy’s whilst Kung Fu-ing? That’s a mental image that will probably stay with me a little too long, really, all things considered.
But no, I’ve not yet Ugged up my wardrobe (at the time of writing) and feel reasonably confident that I won’t be admitting as much in a public space when the time comes – as it surely must. I love shoes. Phew. I just needed to get that out. I feel better for it already.
Up until about six or seven years ago I never really knew what the fuss was about – much to the simmering despair of my girlfriend. Now….oh. Now I can simply never have enough pairs. Shoes, unless I am very much mistaken, rule.
You just need different shoes for different moods. Plus, it is also highly beneficial to line up all your shoes (like a display in a shop) and just stare at them sometimes. You know I’m right, so just be quiet for once.
I am similarly afflicted when it comes to watches. I actually do feel that I maybe have too many watches now – a terrible thing to have to admit to oneself – but this just makes me excited. Luckily, I don’t go out much, so I am unable to slake these fell desires fully.
I also have way too many chess boards and chess pieces – but this is maybe a conversational turn too far. Where were we? Yes, good luck with finding some black Uggy’s. This seems like a sensible thing to do, Mellifluous Dark, and I shall certainly be praying for your success. (I don’t really like to bother God unless it is really important, and this quest of yours certainly seems vital)
I have a stark feeling that both the “Bully Bonus” and “Bully’s Special Prize” were in operation – just sounds right to me, both phrases. Man, I used to love that show when I was stupider. It was so bleakly cheap and shoddy, so much the type of thing you could feel safe watching with granny, so appallingly addictive, so very, very shite. So £35. So tankards packed (un-tightly) with vulgar cash. So aspirational and grasping, really. But what on earth did these people aspire to? And what in the name of all that is holy were they grasping? £42 and an ill-built speedboat that would only cause division and enmity and never, no way, be of any use whatsoever. TV gold, I think I’m right in saying.
You sniggered for 24 hours? What a freakishly attractive notion. Just sort of going about your business after Kung Fu, sniggering for no apparent reason. Nice. This is almost enough to make me go all Uma Thurman-ish myself.
Sniggering, of course, is a remarkably inelegant thing to do – the kind of thing that little sneaks do – and this properly adds to the appeal of the whole spectacle. I may very well find myself sniggering as I contemplate you sniggering for 24 hours. Sniggering, like shoes, rules. (quite a lot of things rule, btw, but still)
Hmm. And you slept fairly well the night after Kung Fu-ing? That’s very good. I’ll be interested to see if that pattern continues, certainly. I used to mentally strangle people when they suggested that a good bit of exercise would soon see my sleeping habits fixed. It’s not like I wasn’t exhausted already, you know? Being tired and ready for sleep is the easy bit.
Oh, sorry – I promise you I’m not trying to be a negative git about the Kung Fu thing, not a bit of it. Anything that offers a glimpse of hope is to be warmly welcomed and pursued. And like you say, Kung Fu will surely help release some pent up frustrations, anyway. If it helps at all with sleeping, well, that’s just a Bully Brucie Bonus. Ha!
God. This may be turning into the longest “answer” I’ve ever given. Sorry about that. I’ll try to get a move on and get out of your clean and shiny hair (temporarily).
I don’t know if I have seen your writing elsewhere, Mellifluous Dark – online or in paper papers. If you have written about CBB then the chances must be pretty shamefully high. Lead, and I shall follow…..
Cleo Rocos? Oh my God. I liked her, found her both intriguing and warm. This lasted for a few days and then I sort of settled down to loathing her shallowness and wholly self-absorbed outlook (or inlook, maybe?) What a colossal bore she turned out to be. Weak, and like a big irritating marsh mallow, she eventually defied parody with her Kenny fixations. I would suggest therapy, but she seems therapied out. Over therapied, maybe.
No rush with the book, incidentally. You seem to be setting a reasonable enough pace. I bet it will be brilliant, as well. A decade and a half seems about right for a masterpiece. (take your finger out already, you freaking snail)
Yes and double yes to all you said about journalism and journalists and the highlighting of iniquities. The thing you said about the treatment of the elderly (esp in hospitals) strikes a particular chord with me. It is just one of those things that makes me feel overwhelmed with despair and, yes, burning anger. My girlfriend does a lot of work in this area – trying to bring art, culture, a sense of connectedness to the outside world, really, to the elderly and dying and sick. Nothing wanky, just a straightforward belief that the elderly don’t suddenly become children or stupid and that everyone deserves at least the option to enjoy these things.
It wears her out and she is frequently distraught by the unthinking treatment dished out to those unfortunate enough to have to spend their time in hospital. Personally, I detest the cruel and disrespectful manner in which the older generations seem to be treated (maybe esp these days). It’s just wrong.
Maybe a few months down the line, when you reluctantly (and incorrectly) come to the conclusion that I’m not a total spazoid, you will be kind enough to point me in the direction of anything you may have written on this stuff.
Please don’t get me started, by the way, on the abjectly missing “innate sense of responsibility” in others, organisations in particular. I tend to froth incoherently. (Hard to believe, I know)
I am proud to say that I have never once watched The Apprentice. This feels like an achievement of sorts because the lure is powerful, to be sure, and I have one of my sisters banging on about it in my ear most phone calls. You may just have fatally tipped the balance, however, with your seedy revelation about Katie being an older, larger version of Grace Thingy from BB last year – and wasn’t she just horrible? I could barely watch her, and yet somehow saw every sordid minute of her time in The House. A neat trick, I’m sure you’ll agree.
Now, because you have disgraced yourself by admitting to watching The Apprentice, I feel it is only fair to disgrace myself in return. Soooo…..when BB is on (celebrity or otherwise), I tend to, you know, every now and then, sort of read Heat magazine. It’s great and the writers are often v. funny indeed. (you do know that I will be forced to kill you if you let this news leave these pages?)
If you ever feel inclined to respond to this letter, Mellifluous Dark, you should feel free to do so in a more recent post (if the habit doesn’t strike you as too strange). Just leave a note here telling me where you are and I’ll be sure to get there in good order. Obviously, I’m perfectly happy here, but I don’t want you to feel pinned in.
Either way, I’ll be back to annoy you sooner than you would probably care for.
But let’s just leave Timmy Mallett out of things, though. Always, okay? Do you think he hates himself? When he’s all dressed up, holding the mallet and all, do you think he ever looks in the mirror and just properly hates himself? You’d sort of think he’d have to, wouldn’t you?
You seem like a good sort, Mellifluous Dark, so I'm not sure that you deserve the link I brought with me this time. Click on my name, don't click on my name. Just know that I'm truly sorry.
Kind regards etc
TPE
PS. I'm going to start limiting myself to 200-300 word answers in blogland. Please feel sure that I won't be leaving such a mess in your house again - unless you provoke me, of course.
Toodle-pip and tally-ho and laters.
Yello there, TPE...
ReplyDeleteI have replied to your brilliant reply on a more recent post. You'll have to read them to find it. Cruel, aren't I?
You do seem to be unusually cruel, yes. Still, I am a glutton for punishment and so will dutifully trudge through your house (wearing v muddy Uggy's) in search of the missing answer.
ReplyDeleteIt is just gone half two in the morning, however, so the search, the quest, may have to be delayed until sunrise.
Probably not though. I'll maybe just go and at least find the thing now - then bed.
Before I respond to the elusive answer (tomorrow sometime, probably) - wherever it may be lurking - I'd just like to say here, in this space, how very lovely it is to have met you.
Onwards and upwards......
Kind regards,
TPE
TPE, this is odd. I published your comment above – or, rather, it published itself without my intervention.
ReplyDeleteLovely to have met you, too. I do like blogworld. You and NMJ have made me feel especially welcome.
I hope the search for that cruel comment didn't extend till sillier hours of the night...