Sleep deprivation is brilliant because… well, you finish the sentence, because I’m not sure I can!
Nah, it’s not so bad. I’m saying this having had a 7hr undisturbed sleep last night (7 Feb), so I’m positively euphoric, but Monday wasn’t much fun – Mini Minx was up from 2 till 3am with 4 canines cutting through at once, Midi was wriggling about in my bed from 1 till 6am, kicking me in the eye and elbowing me in the windpipe, and Maxi was in fighting with her sister for more room and covers from around 5am. I was too exhausted from a bad month of sleep to kick them out or even go get a nightie – I was freezing all night. So yesterday was a day of coffee and muchos snarling and yelling and tears (theirs). I taught them all about what tolerance means and what affects it: they all looked at me seriously as I explained that life would be much more fun and quiet if they stopped coming in my bed, so I could sleep more, so I could have more tolerance, and so I could laugh more.
I thought they would laugh or scoff. Instead I must have hit a chord. Or they finally got sick of me roaring at them for silly stuff, because they all stayed in their beds, and we all slept well last night. The Boss got up early to cook us all sausages (*just* out of date, so bin-bound if he hadn’t). I think the leisurely cooked breakfast on top a good night’s kip set everyone up for a good day. I even made jam buns with Midi and Mini today and didn’t stress toooo much about the explosive flour devastation that they left behind… Midi showed Mini how to measure out flour and sugar, then Midi rubbed in the butter while I taught Mini how to beat eggs. Midi shaped the buns, Mini gleefully jabbed her finger in them all, and Midi filled them carefully (! I was seriously impressed! Neater job than I can do!) with jam. They both brushed the buns with egg and gobbled up the baked finished items. I’ve not made them in decades, but they were so yummy and quick that they’re about to become a Minx-Trout family regular.
Speaking of which, Mini was particularly minxy and testing yesterday. She knew fine I was having a nightmare with dinner (home-made fishcakes – cook, ya buggers ye, cook! It’s half an hour past dinner time! Will youse no’ go brown or something?), and I could tell because she giggled as she meddled. Her sisters sat in front of CBeebies, cowed from an afternoon of me being grumpy with them at the swimming pool. Mini kept moving her high chair to the opposite side of the cooker and climbing up to grab utensils that she could prod dinner or me with. Every time I lifted her down and into the living room, she just raced back, moved the highchair over and started swatting at me again. And again. And again. Or the smoke alarm went off. Again. Finally tiring of wooden spoon waving, she decided to scuttle off and mess about with the washing machine. When I finally put that on ‘lock’, she decided to eat manky stuff off the floor. All the time, dinner is burning / cooking too fast / not cooking at all (depending on whether it was the carrots, peas, rice or the fishcakes). And the cat is buzzing around my ankles, tripping me up every time I moved. I was beyond irritable and into really, REALLY furious by the time The Boss arrived home (20 mins late – when you’ve been clock-watching for a little reprieve, that’s A Lot Of Time). Luckily he took one look at my swirling, red, only-just-got-a-grip-and-no-more eyes, and said the magic words: “Let me pour you a glass of wine, you sit down and eat, and I’ll take over here”. A very wise move on his part – I was purring within a minute. Bless him, he even praised the fishcakes as he crunched through them, ‘appreciating’ the hot and cold spots… What a man!
Anyway, so that’s how I get when I’m chronically sleep deprived. So back to the title: what’s good about it?
- It feels a lot like having had a botch-job lobotomy, I suppose. You lose the ability to think in a straight line. But eventually, after enough sleep loss, you stop railing at not being able to make decisions, or follow a logical thought sequence to its conclusion, stop caring and just relax into your fluff-headedness. Example. “It’s 5.20pm and I normally start dinner at 4.30pm. So dinner’s going to be late. So I need to do something about it. Fast. So I’ll… oh hang on, I need to put on a washing; I’ll just go do that now… oh look, that plant’s dried-up. I’m going to stop what I’m doing mid-load and go water the plant. Then what was it I was just going to do? Something to do with the washing machine? Oh never mind, I’ll just check on the minxes…” and so on. Could be worse – I could be getting distracted by pink sparkles and glitter.
- When you *do* get some decent kip, you feel incredible: rested, energetic, clever, euphoric.
- Coffee has an effect again.
Got any to add?
Jam Bun Recipe (From the Glasgow Cookery Book. Scone-y type texture, with a sweet, crunchy exterior and a hot jammy middle. At their best when hot, hot, hot out the oven)
Ingredients200g self-raising flour 50g butter 75g sugar pinch salt 2 beaten eggs jam (strawberry. Got to be.)
1. Put the oven on to hot (220degC)
2. Sift the flour and salt then rub the butter into it.
3. Mix in the sugar, then mix in enough beaten egg (about 3/4? Little bit more?) to bind it to quite a stiff dough.
4. Break into pieces (8 – 10) and form into round buns.
5. Stick your thumb into each, then fill the holes with jam.
6. Reform the buns to cover up the jam. Brush with the remnants of the beaten egg.
7. Bake for 15 mins.