Monday, August 10, 2015


Sleep time Laura is a dick.

That's what I've learned today. I've been having trouble sleeping up here at the Edinburgh festival. I have anxiety - pens out lads, add it to the list of sexy attributes along with large bum and being the height of a well nourished adolescent. I'd guess it's low level anxiety as I function, generally speaking, most days and try not to make a fuss. But it's the usual; sweaty, shaky, high heart rate, difficulty meeting people's eyes. Yada Yada, nothing I can't handle. Except.

Sleep. Sleep when I'm anxious sucks mighty sweaty butt holes filled with sambucca sand. I can fall asleep with no problem at all. But then I wake up every two hours for seemingly no reason. It's like having an invisible child. I might be world's best practise surrogate parent. Tonight I might attempt just resting a nipple on the nozzle of the vacuum cleaner to see if these night wakes are my body desiring the time to mother something.

Last Fringe I used sleeping tablets; those herbally ones that are associated with owls. As though every person with sleeping issues will see those adverts and think, "Finally, an advert that speaks to me. I can really associate with owls and their difficulties. That is just how I feel."

This year, I hoped not to need to because I am having a really good time andthought I might not be so anxious. Sadly, anxiety is not so based on how you think you're feeling. Well, for me anyway. It seems to me it's more like your body's way of using your functions to say "I know you don't think you're anxious, but screw you, I'm going to behave like we are anyway until you find something to be anxious about."

So, this year, feeling less anxious, I just bought ear plugs to block out extraneous noise and keep me asleep once I've drifted off. It's been working OK. I'd say it had a success rate of Nickleback. Surprisingly decent for something so simple, but has really fallen flat recently.

I woke after a horrible night's sleep dreaming I was trying to contact Watford Travelodge from the Fringe because I'd left my iMac there and needed to pop back and get it,. Two terifying prospects there; losing my iMac, and having to go to Watford Travelodge again. I stayed there a few weeks ago and had to have my room refunded because it smelt so strongly of urine. Hooray!

I woke with both ear plugs missing. First I panicked that I'd somehow managed to absorb them into my ears. I have a friend who lost one of his ear phones only to find out a year later it HAD BEEN IN HIS EAR THE WHOLE TIME. After humming to myself for a bit and switching on the radio to check, I was quite convinced that they weren't in my ears.

I looked over to my bedside table and my ear plugs were there; sitting neatly side by side on the table. Sleep time Laura is clearly enough of a self destructive pleb to have removed the ear plugs quite on purpose and decided to just not enjoy unconsciousness.

How on earth do you deal with your subconscious self sabotaging even your best attempts to be cheerful and zen? Do I strap my arms to the head board tonight? Is that going to make me look like the weirdest S&M afficionado in the house? Would it be worse if there was a weirder one?

Gaffer tape might be the option; to strap the ear plugs into my ears and pray that my comatose fingers are not dextorus enough to remove them so swiftly.

My best guess is to think positive; maybe my dream Laura was actually trying to save me? Maybe she knew that even waking up every two hours for 3 more weeks was better than staying in a dream that involved Watford Travelodge.

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