Blog On The Motorway

Ellen has been having trouble sleeping of late, and so I popped into my local drug emporium (Morrisons) and picked up some Nytol.  Ellen duly popped a few just before we watched Skins and made her way upstairs to sleep the sleep of the dead. 

Strangely, I then seemed to inherit her sleeplessness and found myself unable to sleep by the time BBC 4 changed over to the World Service, usually my clearest sign that I should be sleeping. So I popped a few myself.  I drifted off about an hour later, only to be woken by a very rude alarm clock a scant few hours later.  As a consequence I have been living in a rather surreal dreamworld today, where everything is a little bit cloudy and somehow a bit fantastic.

I have also managed, through the wonders of technology, to get back into contact with some of my fabbest University friends, who seem to have accelerated past me into Middle Age, and thus lessened the shock of my own rapid conversion.  One of them probably has even less hair than me, although if you counted my facial hair Wolverine has less hair than me.

I had many things to write about today, but none of it seems to suit my mood, so I shall abstain.  This week (which in case you didn’t know, is National Food Intolerance Week) has been mega busy this week, leaving me unable to post with any regularity, although I’ve had many ideas buzzing in my little mind.  But today I find myself unable to really care about any of them, all courtesy of one of the mildest sedatives available, which I took over 12 hours ago.

I can see why people get addicted to this stuff.