On Sleeping
I've got a confession to make. A dreadful, dastardly, horrible confession - and it doesn't help that it's probably a bit bizarre, too. You see, I don't really like to sleep all that much. There's just something about spending a good couple of hours unconscious that doesn't really interest me. Maybe it's the utter lack of anything to do or feel...Anyway, I digress; regardless of how little I like my sleep - especially, for obvious reasons, while I'm snoozing away - I still need it. I need a ludicrous amount of it, actually. And it's that frankly ludicrous amount of sleep that is my undoing; you see, like a fair number of people I can't get to sleep early but still need to wake up at a ridiculously early hour to get myself all presentable and ready for another day of slog. So I get some sleep - but not enough, and so, like most people, I spend the day walking around in a grumpy stupor. Enough people do this for someone to recognise that ...