I’ve seen a lot of dawn hours this week. I’ve lain in our gorgeous, palatial holiday bed, looking up at the fairy tale mosquito net thinking bad thoughts. I am not a good person without my sleep. It was unfair that my family should have to bring that woman on holiday. I stared long into the night at the green tinge cast by the air con control unit, cussing and thinking murderous thoughts. Poor Husband; what a risk he takes in sleeping next to me.
I thought I’d done really well with the jetlag the weekend I got back. My only remedy for this evil condition is to keep busy so I should have known that going on holiday immediately wouldn’t be good for it.
And it really wasn’t.
On Monday night and Tuesday night I spent three hours gazing around the villa. Wednesday night between midnight and three am I also endured a migraine. Eventually tormented by the smell of the mosquito netting (don’t ask, a hyper sensitive sense of smell appears to be something to do with migraine) I got up, paced about and then settled on a chair. Draped in a towel and a pink pashmina for warmth, I spent five hours blissfully asleep.