Sleepy Time.

I roll over in the dark not knowing what time it is but knowing with complete certainty that I will have to get out of bed. The curse of getting older seems to be that nocturnal visits to the loo are commonplace. While that's as may be it that doesn’t mean I have to like it, especially since it’s not my insomnia that’s wakened me or is keeping me awake but my bloated bladder. At the side of the bed the alarm clock taunts me with its tick, tick, tick – counting down the seconds to when I can't take it any longer and will have to head for relief. It’s not fair; the bed is warm and the room is, well the room is almost baltic as we say over here and I know I’m going to freeze despite going and coming back in jig time. Sometimes you just know that you’re more sensitive to cold than others and this is one of those nights. I’m snug in bed. I’m warm and cosy.


I groan and test the temperature by sticking a foot from beneath the covers, hoping that the icy tip of my nose is lying to me. Christs teeth! It’s freezing! I decide that I can wait a while longer. Maybe I could even get back to sleep.

Ten minutes later as I pull the flush on the toilet I shiver and silently berate myself for not getting up when I should have – and for sleeping in the buff.  If I’d got up I’d probably be warm and snug back in bed – maybe even fast asleep! The thought doesn’t make me feel any better. I wash and dry my hands and close the door behind me, making my way back to the bedroom by the low glow of the night light on the upstairs landing. {Is this yet another sign of getting older I wonder – that I prefer to have a night light on for my nocturnal avoidance of a stubbed toe rather than suffer the momentary harshness of a newly switched on ceiling light?} I reach the bedroom door and in the gloom Jess’ eyes spark catty disapproval at being disturbed yet again by my return. I give her a withering look in return but she’s closed her eyes to my insignificance and, with a disparaging sigh, cooried closer in to the Lovely G.

I grope my way along the foot of the bed and a few steps later slip gratefully back under the covers. Not too gratefully mind you as somehow the bed has become freezing in my short absence and, while I normally love getting into a cold bed, tonight it’s murder.  I slide myself back towards the warmth emanating from the Lovely G but make the mistake of expecting a warm reception. Instead I get a groan and a dig in the ribs as she pushes me away, still deep in sleep. Frustrated, I move back to my own side – and the cold.


An hour and a half later I’m still trying to get to sleep. Time needles me as it escapes from the clicking clock again with it's taunt that I have to be up for work soon. Beside me Jess and the Lovely G both purr contentedly and I seem to have lost most of the duvet - all the warm bits anyway. Morning creeps in through the slit of the open window as I grit my teeth and pull the duvet determinedly tight around me and try to force sleep on myself but I know it’s not going to work. It’s still freezing out there.

And I have to go to the toilet.


I hate this getting older lark.................

See you later.

Listening to:


dbs said…
Just sit and then you won't have to turn on the light. (That's what I do.)
Alistair said…
On that freezing cold seat?

Alistair it is frightening how similar your nocturnal experience is to my own nightly perambulations.

Bladder pressure, desperate attempts to stay in the snuggly warm, toe-stubbing shuffle to the freezing loo (mind you in NZ, "freezing" is about 10ÂșC, not exactly Baltic...more Aberdeen) rejection from the loved and warm, insipient insomnia.

It's f*cking bloody awful to be getting old. Nobody warned me about all of this.

I'm not even going to comment on Prostate problems, piles, skin tags, myopia, hairy ears, hairy nostrils and hairy eyebrows. Why The f*ck does hair grow everywhere except where it's really wanted; on top of my bloody head.

I feel your nightly pain.

At least you can console yurself with a nice plump Haggis.

BTW, just for a laugh, why don't you drop Jess out of the bedroom window, and put an ice cube down the back of lady G's neck.

What a hoot.
Alistair said…
Aye - I'm with you on the hairy stuff, although unusually for our family I still have a full head of hair and no grey at 53. The nose and ear stuff is just gross and a bugger to get clipped with my eye hand coordination inverted via the mirror. Impossible!

Re the BTW - because of instant death I would say - both administered from the same source!
Antares Cryptos said…
You mean, it eventually gets worse?
Alistair said…
Ouch - rub it in why don't you....


But just you wait - you'll see!
That's right Alistair, age and hairy ears and nostrils come to all.

Plus of course incontinence.
Alistair said…
That's why I will probably never live on a continent TSB. I couldn't stand that.........

I'll just keep my wee island here.

{aye right ok -sorry}

That's so bad it's funny.
Antares Cryptos said…
@TSB and Alistair, you give me hope for the future.;)
Alistair said…
Ah - sorry about that AC.

Rebecca S. said…
This the first of my catch up day comments on your blog...I too rarely pass a night without having to get up to pee. Recently after some theft of their valuables our across the street neighbour installed a super-bright light onto the front of their garage. At first it's all night brightness irritated me, until I realized it provided a bit of a night-light for me when I have to get up in the dark night. Bonus!
Alistair said…
I guess we all have our cross to bear Rebecca..........

That one's a bugger though eh-no?

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