I can't sleep. Not just now, not just tonight. All this week. Insomnia.
Sleep is my best friend, my best work, my secret love. OK, not that secret, I am famed for my ability to fall asleep anytime anywhere, and through anything. I am regularly known to lock the door of my office and take 45 minute cat naps in the middle of the day and still be in bed at my normal time. Which is 8.30 for god's sake. I have also been pretty sick, and went for a reasonable casual bike ride yesterday, so I should be nodding off no worries.
And yet here I am, at 12.08am on this fine Sunday wide, wide awake. I've had a lovely night with Vietnamese noodles, Chinese icecream, bad South Australian champagne, good coffee and almond liqueur, each at a different venue. I am well sated. I should be weary, dead on my feet.
But yet I am wide awake with Apollo the Wonder Cat gazing at my, wondering what the feck I'm doing at the computer at this time of the night. Am I preparing my ethics proposal? Am I finishing outstanding assignments? Am I tweeking course restructure?
I am playing freecell. Hundreds, and hundreds of games of freecell. My secret shame, my addiction. I love it. Really really love it. I have no idea why people pay fortunes for x-boxes and the like when they have this on their PCs. For Free. I have even got it to such a perfection that if I don't have all of the cards from King to at least five or six lined up ready to drop down in a gorgeous waterfall of mathematical perfection, I go back to the beginning and start again.