Wednesday, 16 September 2015

Sleepless

One disadvantage of middle age is that I sleep poorly.
I long for the far off days when I woke up to a sore ear  - I slept so deeply that I didn’t stir, and my ear would suffer from pressure.
I wake nowadays fractious and craving more kip.
My sleep is shallow and restless.
Or so I thought.
Today I have knocked on four of my neighbours’ doors  to apologise: my car alarm went off in the wee small hours.
Piecing together the neighbours’ politely tetchy comments, it went on for maybe two hours.
I wouldn’t know – I didn’t wake up.
And this is not the first incident: three weeks ago young Kit, who was staying with us, finished his late shift at the restaurant only to find he had no house key with him.  The neighbours heard him banging on our front door, but we didn’t. 
Nor the doorbell.
Nor our mobiles.
He cleverly used social media to locate a friend who was still awake and went to sleep at their house.
“Well,” I said to Nigel, “On the bright side, at least this means I must be getting more sleep than I realised.”

“Yes.  And you’ll be needing it.  You’ve got another seven more neighbours to apologise to.  Off you go.”

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