But I had my own Kafkaesque nightmare on Saturday. Having offered to meet the glorious Diane Torr, who never travels light, from London's Charing Cross station and help with one of her rucksacks, I awoke to find that someone had hit me over the head with a sledgehammer.
I just managed to call and give her an alternative travel plan then fell back to sleep. Next time I woke she was leaning on my door bell around lunchtime, poor thing. We were so looking forward to seeing each other and going to Broadway Market, the Tracey Emin show at the Hayward Gallery and more. So at this point I just managed a cup of tea and to suggest she get in touch with some other chums before I was feverishly back in bed with another whack from the hammer. The arms of Morpheus didn't feel so sweet any more.
Next I am aware that Radio 4's been blaring into my locked-in syndrome for bloody hours and I fumble beside the bed to turn it down. It must be dawn and how on earth has Diane managed to sleep through this din? It's horrible. It's so complicated the news, everything's happening at once, it's complicated, it's loud, it's complicated, it's horrible.. aarrrrrrggggggh. I claw myself out of bed, stagger on to the landing. Diane's bedroom is empty oh my god! Why didn't she come back last night? Jesus is she OK? I'm shaky but I go downstairs for a drink. It's 7 o'clock and I slump into a chair staring vacantly at the clock. Then I feel a lurking sense of terror. The sky isn't getting any lighter.
It's getting darker.
And darker. I don't understand!
Well yes, it finally dawns on me that I haven't even had a good night's shuteye. I call D and she's on her way home. 'I tried to rouse you from your sleeping beautyhood but you just wouldn't wake up. After a while I decided to go out. Do you need any supper?'
* * *
One good thing. I seem to have got rid of my writer's block but who knows? I at least hope I'm back soon.
Posts
AWOL indeed. I was just wondering what you've been up to. You've been missed!
ReplyDeleteBy off chance, I hadn't heard, but good for her. That is a happy ending. Fond though I am of shallow surface glitter, deep down I prefer charity in all things (don't tell anyone)
ReplyDeleteSo glad you're under the weather. A Lady West sighting is rather like spotting Garbo
I meant 'so glad you are NO LONGER under the weather'. Oops.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're back soon. Been a while! So, we talkin' flu or hangover - this sledgehammer lark?
ReplyDeleteWell, how wonderful is that! To be greeted back from exile by some of the people who mean most to me in the whole blogosphere.
ReplyDeleteThank you COLUMNIST - i nearly went for good this time but suddenly realised what I'd miss. Moi sans a global personality cult?? ouch.
DED I read you right the first time! Ah, thank you. I mustn't let the elusiveness go to my head. Truth be known I've ditched one of psychopathologies, a computer game I have a complicated relationship with.
BLUE it was some species of flu. I wouldn't have resented it had I been on the bottle. It could be tonisillitis.. Is there a doc in the house?? Promise to be better for your London sojourn at the end of the month.
I'm such a soporific person that any time I spend awake feels like a kind of theft.
ReplyDeleteDo get that rest. I fully believe sleep is the brain's rinse cycle.
yes you're right rurritable. I think I got ill in the first place because I wasn't getting enough sleep.
ReplyDeleteDear Rosie, I'm so glad that the hat had a happy ending.
ReplyDeleteHope you're fully better. I never miss my sleep. Love, C xx
Thank you Christina!
ReplyDelete