Tuesday, August 03, 2004

Fainting woman / stroppy toddler

I always think I can short-change myself in the sleep department, the odd hour missing here and there doesn't really make a difference, does it? This thought inevitably leads to me spending the next day demented from lack of sleep, my sense of self-awareness so close to the edge that I am unable to connect the previous late night with today's temporary plunge into zombie world.

Many of my problems are, I suspect, linked to sleep (0r lack of it). The phrase over-tired brings forth images of: (a) Victorians (used in reference to fainting women); (b) parents (to describe stroppy toddlers). Not sure which is more appropriate.

Last night I slept well. One of the good things about depression is that, as long as you avoid the insatiable urge to consume yourself alive in self-analysis, you can write the rest of the day off, go to bed early and get a good night's sleep. So this morning I am better; I awake refreshed, optimistic, energised. Of course, this means that this new appetite for life will lead to me spending as much of it awake as possible, which will lead back to fainting woman / stroppy toddler.

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