It's 3.01am and I stir, I am awake, I'm starting to get excited, this morning I am taking delivery of Dave Bailey's Hardknott beers.
I get up and make myself a pint of orange squash, I have every intention of getting a couple more hours kip before heading off to work at 5.30. I go back to bed.
Next to me my wife is tossing and turning, she is too hot, the flat is too hot, I drain the liquid in my glass and try and get to sleep....
I can't, I start thinking about the day ahead and my mind starts racing, after taking delivery of the beers I have to get over to The White Horse in Parsons Green with some coupler heads, then I have an errand to run for Lucille and I think about the journey.
I have not had anywhere near enough sleep.
I hear the first bird song of the day and think...Shut up you little bastard!
7 comments:
We're sat in the car park besides the Rake. The market is already busy despite being very early.
We have a car full of beer which has made it here safely. I can't wait till Monday.
Brilliant. you should get up early and write more often!
Now I'm awake and at work I can appreciate the birds a bit more, hearing the first birdsong of the day is either :
a) a beautiful thing or
b) a desperate thing
Poetic insomnia - been there, done that, you have my sympathies sir!!!!
@ Glyn: I think W.B. Yeats summed it up best...
"Shut up!! Ye feckin' little bastards!!"
It's one of his earlier efforts, I believe...
If I wake up during the night hot and sticky next to my wife the last thing I think of is beer.
The first thing I think of is....
... a cut of tea.
Hands up all those who predicted jiggery-pokery !
Pie Tin - she doesn't get enough sleep at the moment so I let her be yesterday...
Post a Comment