Sleep? what sleep!?

Something I have always taken for granted is a good night's sleep. While some of my friends, The Writer, for example, regularly have trouble getting enough shut eye, I have always found that I sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, often before, and I awake full of beans seven hours later.

But this week, something very odd is going on. Sunday night, the weather woke me up. It's so weird being deaf but being woken up by noise – it makes me feel like a bit of fraud – but I can promise you that the howling wind and lashing rain really was loud enough to wake this deaf girl.

Monday, I went walkabout – I don't remember this and wasn't even aware I had been sonambulating, except my TV remote was over the other side of my room and my cupboard door was wide open.

By Tuesday, I'd had enough and didn't let my head hit the pillow until it had been drenched with Champneys' Pillow Mist – a calming blend of essential oils. And so I eventually drifted off… into nightmare after nightmare – there were hideous scenarios at work, fire alarms at home and worst of all, I smashed a mirror.

Now, what I want to know is – if you smash a mirror in your dreams, is that then 7 years bad dreams?

So, last night I decided to drench my entire bed in Champney's Pillow Mist – I felt like I had fallen into a vat of essential oils and inbetween not being able to breathe from the smell of lavender and trying not to stress about the broken mirror, I tried to go to sleep.

I tried…

and tried…

and tried…

until finally…

zzzzzzzzzzzz

BUT THEN: At 1am I woke up convinced it was morning...

It wasn't.

At 5am I woke up to discover I had caught a cold overnight – had I sonambulated in the direction of someone who was infectious and snogged them in my sleep?!

and then…

I finally fell into the deepest sleep ever. I slept through my alarm clock vibrating it's way across my mattress, through New Housemate's front door slamming and as a result, this saw me breaking a new record of bed to dressed in about three minutes which, considering my head feels fuzzier than Elmo's, is pretty impressive I think.

Tonight, I am going to make myself deafer and try earplugs – The Writer, whose birthday it is today (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!), swears by them…

Bring on bedtime.