Wednesday, October 25

Mornings are twisted and Radio 1 a sick joke

As those who know me will know, I hate mornings.

I am a fearsome and unrelentless monster in the morning, both in terms of visuals and audio. Most people who spend any time with me in the mornings quickly learn to avoid me until an hour or so has passed since rising.

I will not try to excuse this behaviour as I believe I have nothing to apologise for. I understand from one lady who would know conclusively that whilst a swaddling child (I enjoyed using this expression in my earlier blog and so, if you don't mind, will take the opportunity to use it again), I used to sleep 12 hours a night straight through - never once waking for feeding and probably pooing whilst unconscious.

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In fact, question for anyone who can or will try to answer. Do babies poo/piss while asleep or do they have to be awake to do it?"

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So, the fact that I slept right through as a swaddling child demonstrates that I have a natural - you could say, genetic - predisposition for requiring long spells of sleep each day. I cannot the prevent the fall out when my innate bodily requirements are denied any more than I could prevent my stomach from rumbling if it needed more food.

I only get a mere six and a half hours sleep most days and when being woken in what, to me, is 'deep sleep' mode smack in the middle of my natural sleep cycle, I am naturally and helplessly upset. In fact, "upset" is miserably deficient in adequately conveying to you the experience of waking each morning for me. Let me expand.

First my brain registers confusion - What was that sound. Who calls my name? Am I dreaming? Then horror - Time has moved too quickly, it's not morning yet, this is some mistake - the bed is warm, the bedroom air is cold, this bed is so comfy, my head is whoozy. Stop shouting my name - I HEAR YOU.
I am indignant. I torment myself with the 'just five more minutes' game, knowing full well I will feel no more inclined to rise in five minutes that I do at the present time. I often convince myself I am suffering from a terminal disease and need to stay in bed or else I will die. I feel I will die.
I run through a series of potential excuses that may enable me to stay off work and remain in bed.
The name-calling is continuing.
Fuck off you bastardshit - I KNOW.
I try desperately to fall back asleep in the hope I will discover this early awakening is in fact some sick trick - one of those dreams where you think you are awake but actually you are asleep. It doesn't work, I know I am awake. I am angry at myself because I cannot fall asleep again. I am angry at the shouting person for shouting when it is perfectly obvious I must now be awake.
For fuck's sake……..I throw back the two warm duvets cossetting me in their feathery arms, swing my legs with a bang onto the floor and drag myself upright most angrily and resentfully.

It takes my brain a good hour, a cup and a half of coffee and two cigarettes to lift the immediate fog. It takes a further hour before I no longer run the risk of punching someone or crying with helpless tears if someone tries to engage in conversation or forces me to listen to conversation.

For the second hour, my brain is still tender, it is susceptible to the slightest noise or movement. It requires coaxing round and accustomisation to consciousness.

Imagine then the dreadfulness for me, of standing on a cold train platform in the middle of Northern England, climbing up into a train whose windows don't close properly, where the smell of sweat assaults my suffering senses and I am faced with a carriage carrying three giggling, chatty and energetic teenagers, bouncing of the walls thanks to their breakfast of three poptarts and fruitgums.

They talk. They talk within my radius of hearing. They talk constantly, chirpily, chiruppey. Their girly, high-pitched happy tones burrow into my head. Their conversation is stupid, it's as stupid and mind-numbing and childish as the conversation of every hideous, noisey, energetic Radio 1 presenter who blasts out hideousness every morning to anyone STUPID enough to think that Radio 1 in the morning will make them feel better. Mark and Lard? MARK AND LARD? The mere name is an insult to any vaguely intelligent human being to wishes to be treated by an adult like an adult, not an overgrown seven-year old who finds fart noises funny and prank phone-calls the height of comedy.

They prattle inane hyper babble. They prattle inane hyper babble NON-STOP for forty minutes.

By the time I disembark I am almost ready the throw myself in front of the train and…. oh god, they are behind me. Their chiruppy, syrupy voices are tied to the inner coils of my brain. I consider upon sighting a car lightly stepping out in front of it. This has two advantages. It will knock me out ever so slightly so I can't hear the prattling girls and it will enable me to have a couple of hours kipp in the hospital under cover of a really good excuse to get off work.

My rationale thinking mind, however, has now started to stir. It steps and offers a calmer solution.

It points out the bus stop I am approaching and the seat lining its inside. I walk towards it and sit on the seat. I open my bag and fumble for rolling papers, tobacco and a lighter. I slowly roll a cigarette as I contemplate the morning air. I wait for a long, long distance to build between the noise-makers and myself. I stand up and carry on my way.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

hey, on yahoo there is a article about a new study showing that women are far grumpier than men in the morning,i agree i have become a right bitch in the past year in the mornings. but when your single its great waking in the morning, and stirring in your own time. whats with telling someone to shut up when you arent ready to talk and be cheery. juust leave me be . i woke up this morning to a broken shower and broken washing machine,alas i went back to bed,sadly had to get up half an hour later. i got no sleep last night.feel really shit now.

Anonymous said...

read it thoroughly now,your words mirror my thoughts every morning, thought i have hope this feeling will fade,i havent been in full time work long,i resent working for making me get up everyday, i do it for the rest of my life.

Anonymous said...

What are your thoughts on the snooze button found on most alarm clocks Natarius?

Is this not a pointless invention as anyone who would be likely to use a snooze button would have the foresight to know that they should just set their alarm back the equivalent amount of time they could spend snoozing.

Or, does it sometimes make the morning easier to set your alarm for earlier than you actually need to rise to allow yourself half an hour of semi-sleep, semi-consciousness to allow yourself to gently rise?

Personally I do both: - set my alarm to allow for a half hour of snoozing/slowly gaining consciousness, then do the 'just another 5 minutes' for half an hour meaning I arrive flustered at work 15 minutes late with mascara around the bags under my eyes from having done my make-up on the tube and an out of breath apology to my team for 'more problems at the station this morning'.

Natalie said...

Dear Lady Eldridge,

May It Please Your Gracious and Splendid Person. I concur with with you on many aspects of those most enlightened sentiments you have expressed today.

I feel truly that whilst allowing the sleeper time to accustomise to the waking state, that the snooze facility causes more harm than good.

I humbly petition that the snooze facility presents merely another layer of confusion and frustration to an already overwhelmed mind and only serves to heighten the sense of annoyance within the sleeper when waking due to the fact they are greeted by an ear-piercing, incessant sound.

Perhaps like me Gentle Lady, you are not unfamiliar with the eerie sensation that Pavlov's dog must surely have felt upon hearing that all-too familiar whistle. For truly, when I hear the sound of the snooze, even in daylight hours, I am immediately driven back to the smells and sensations of day-break and find myself shuddering at the very recollection. It is a most disconcerting and unwelcome feeling and one that I fear I will never be rid of.

Anonymous said...

Well I for one am going to stand in the corner of the snooze button. I understand and appreciate your sentiments on the matter, but I have always found it to be a gentler way of getting out of bed in the mornings. The shock of waking, initially is not made any better or worse, but I do need a few minutes to just lie there before I can bring myself to face the horror of a new day, which brings with it the very real danger of falling back to sleep, and for me therefore the snooze button safeguards against this. In fact until now I have never really thought about what a huge part it plays in my daily routine -without it I would be either be late for every appointment I have ever had in the mornings, or make it out of bed at the first attempt and thus end upeven grumpier than I normally am. Thanks for bringing this topic to my attention people - I will appreciate this facility even more in the future!

jamesj said...

On the question of whether "babies poo/piss while asleep or do they have to be awake to do it?"

I can confirm that babies can and often do poo/piss while asleep. Well, with eye's firmly shut, at least... and interestingly, sometimes also with a little smirk.

Almost as if to say "I may be unconscious, but I'm well enough aware of my bodily functions to know that I have pooped, and equally aware that you, dear father, will be the lucky person tasked with cleaning up the mess".