Tag Archives: sleep

Bloody hell


We’ve done it!! We’ve survived the summer season.

On the diary I can now see without scrolling across the screen the great big blacked out space that means we are closed for five whole days.

Five days of not getting up at 6.30 every morning. Five days of not frying eggs or any other breakfast related stuff. Five days of not having to smile and wish everyone a good morning.

Yay!

It’s been a fantastic season, we have knocked spots off last years figures but now we are totally exhausted and ready for a break. Since April we have had two days off. Once to go to a dog show and once to go to a funeral.

I’m so looking forward to waking up in the morning and my first words not being ‘oh, bloody hell’ as I have myself out of bed and stand in the bathroom brushing my teeth with my eyes closed and my head leaning against the wall.

Do we regret buying a mahoosive B&B now that we really know what it’s all about? Not at all. It’s been great but now need to slee…..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

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I know he’s here somewhere


Mr Douggie the Doggie managed to break the penultimate rule a while ago and was allowed to start sleeping in our bedroom with us. The ultimate rule is ‘no dogs on the bed’ which he tries to break on a regular basis but gets met with a sharp ‘GET OFF!!’ Every other rule in the book went by the board a long time ago. “I’ll never let him on the furniture”,  for instance. Now he just jumps up and gets settled wherever and whenever he feels like it, usually using me as a pillow. Ok, I admit it, I like the doggie snuggles while I’m watching a bit of evening telly.

To be fair, we only relaxed the bedroom rule so he could alert us if he was going to have a seizure but I have to be honest, I hate him being in the bedroom.

As if Boofuls doesn’t make enough noise in his sleep now I also have to contend with the pooch snoring, dreaming, smacking his lips, flopping around all over the floor rather than sleeping on his own lovely chocolate coloured bed, stretching, twitching  and scratching, waking me up for a cuddle in the middle of the night ( you’d think he’s know that that was going to be a non starter) and generally having me awake half the night wondering if he’s ok.

A side effect of being woken up seventy five times a night is that I need to visit the bathroom more than I used to. There must be a direct link between my eyeballs and my bladder.  As soon as I open my eyes my bladder says  hello.

Going to the bathroom during the night never used to be an issue. Get up, walk to bathroom, pee, walk back, get back into bed. Easy. However, now we’ve changed the bedroom carpet it’s not so easy. I climb out of my lovely warm bed and then stand there for a minute trying to decipher where in the room Douggie is. Spotting a cream coloured dog on a cream coloured carpet in a room that’s blacker than a black thing because there’s no such thing as street lighting where we live, is no mean feat.

Once I’ve successfully located him, by peering like Mr Magoo into the dark, I usually find him stretched out to his full length at some impossible angle and nowhere near his bed, I have to try and get past him without standing on him. Again, easy. You think?

In the good old days before I developed plantar fasciitis it was ok. Now my poor feet tingle and throb and just don’t want to move. My first four or five steps look remarkably like those of your average 100 year old, wobbly, painful and uncertain. One move from Douggie as I’m gingerly stepping over him will see me go ear over elbow in a most ungainly fashion.

Amazingly, by the time I’ve reached the bathroom door I’m able to walk normally again so the walk back to bed is nowhere near as treacherous. I climb back into my lovely warm bed and snuggle down trying to get back to sleep before the next disturbance which usually happens as the first rays of light are just starting to break through and Douggie decides it’s time to get up.  He sticks his cold, snotty wet nose on my face and bashes his tail against the radiator like a gong.

My first words of every day used to be “Good morning, darling.” Now it’s “Feck off, dog! It’s fecking 6 o’clock!”. It’s no way to start the day. Of course then I’m wide awake so I lie there fuming for a while telling my eyeballs not to tell my bladder I need a wee and then I end up getting up.

With the amount of sleep deprivation I have at the moment it’s amazing I’m not walking round every day tearing the heads of people and breathing fire. These seizures have got a lot to answer for. Tell me again why I wanted a dog.

I can’t hear anything


Ah, they’re back. How I’ve missed them.

No, wait. That was a lie. I meant: SHUDDUP WITH THE BLOODY SNORING!!!

I am of course referring to Boofuls’ nightly snore fests.  There’s nothing like being woken up twenty times a night thinking you’re about to be run over by a juggernaut. The noise is horrendous.

The other night I suggested gently to him that he might want to put a sock in it. He sat up.

“What?”

“Shut that bloody racket up!”

“What racket? I can’t hear anything.”

There are times………

 

So. Moving on. We’re down to three.

Three what? Three more weddings, one of which is today, and then I am no longer a wedding photographer and Boofuls is no longer a wedding photographers bitch.

No that I’ve been counting them down or anything but number one can’t come soon enough. It’s fair to say that the novelty of shooting weddings and working the associated twelve/fourteen hour day has worn off. It wouldn’t have been so bad if we even got properly fed and watered but apparently wedding photographers live on fresh air.

I’m ready to settle down to some good old studio work. Bring on the sprogs!

 

 

Exhausted


Is sleeping sickness a real thing? If it is then I think I’ve got it. I’m KNACKERED!!

Yesterday I crawled out of my bed and spent the day feeling a bit zombified.  Last night I could have gone back to my bed by 8.30 but forced myself to stay up till 10pm.  Even reading my bedtime book is too much effort, mind you, it is a crap book. ‘Angels in my teeth’ or something by Lorna someone or other.

I seem to be repeating the same routine today.

Dammit, I haven’t got the time to be tired/ill.

Tonight is the first wedding fair of this year and I’ve a ton of preparation work still to do, mostly due to the fact that I spent yesterday like a zombie.

Better stop chuffing about on here and get on with it then.

Sorry for moaning.