You can sleep when you’re undead

I’m behind getting this blog up because I had a stressful day yesterday which morphed into a no-sleep zone. I’ve reached the stage of life where staying up all night is no longer entertaining, even for a first-class freak-out. Today I feel—and probably look—like road kill hopped up on bad coffee.

I’m not sure I should be driving a computer under these conditions. Sleep-deprived blogging may have similar effects to drunk dialling, causing right-minded people to flee in dismay. A cautious approach would be to adhere to the safest of topics. A recipe, say, or favourite television shows. However, there’s a limited fun-factor in being completely safe—although I have to say I love having both the US and UK versions of Being Human on at the same time. They’re both brilliant fun.

Failing food and TV, I could make pithy observations, if I had any. I don’t. No grand insights, nor even a little one. As I lay awake grinding my teeth, I tried creating possible slogans/bumper stickers for the occasion:

· In case of stress, take two C-4 and call me in the morning.
· Darth Maul is my therapist. Annoy me at your own risk.
· Do fast zombies drink Starbucks?

Yep, I’m tired. Definitely not my best work.

So, instead of being my ruthlessly clever self, I got up, bought flowers on the way to work, and got busy. The demons win if they make you stumble, and they don’t lie awake worrying about it.

After I post this, I’ll fall on my face for the night. To misquote George Herbert – sleeping well is the best revenge.