Tag Archives: Sleep

Joke 811

12 Jun

Alex at Dave & Jill's 1997

  • For sincere advice and the correct time, call any number at random at 3:00 a.m.   Steve Martin
  • Excuse me, my leg has gone to sleep; do you mind if I join it?   Alexander Woollcott (Theatre Critic)
  • I’m not a very good sleeper, but you know what? I’m willing to put in a few extra hours every day to get better. That’s just the kind of hard worker I am.   Jarod Kintz
  • No, you didn’t wake me up; I had to get up to answer the phone anyway. ‘Yogi’ Berra
  • The amount of sleep needed by the average person is five minutes more. Max Kaufman
  • When your cat has fallen asleep on your lap and looks utterly content and adorable, you will suddenly have to go to the bathroom.   Rule of Feline Frustration
  • If your husband has difficulty getting to sleep, the words ‘We need to talk about our relationship’ may help.   Rita Rudner
  • There never was a child so lovely, but his mother was glad to get him asleep. Ralph Waldo Emerson
  • I have left orders to be awakened at any time in case of national emergency, even if I’m in a cabinet meeting.   Ronald Reagan

From just-one-liners.com

BAd nIight

7 Jul
Sleep On Computer

Image via Wikipedia

I haven’y had mucg sleep.  I had a bea dram and I jept waking myself up but then going off again, strainght back into the dream.

***Howebet,   never let it be sid that The Laug

hing Housewife lets exaustion get in the way of a pist, though yu mau have to excuse me if I fal asleeep while typi…

Matchstick Girl

4 Jun
Spider web at sunrise
Image via Wikipedia

Halfway through the year and we’ve had no summer. Just the other day, I greeted with gloom the news that this month we will be celebrating the summer solstice, which means that the day after, we’re on the downward spiral to winter.  Now I wish we were already there; at least I’d get some sleep.

The light woke me – again – around five this morning.  Every day for almost a month I’ve been woken around that time, and every day I’ve fought it.  Today, I gave in, got out of bed, and caught up with some television: Rookie Blue and two episodes of Have I Got News For You.  That brought me to six a.m.  That brought me to my feet in annoyed surprise.  That meant I had actually woken at four a.m., misread my watch, and spent two hours not snoozing when I could have been.  I should have suspected something when I put on the fish tank light and they all turned over and went back to sleep.

I’ve had about four hours and I’m grumpy.  That’s why I can tell you that I no longer fear a backlash, as I did last night, from my expectant readers: I haven’t climbed any spider webs; there will be no photographs; and I’m in a very bad mood.

I had to abort yesterday’s mission because there was no one to take pictures: the Hub was on the phone and Spud insisted on revising for next week’s exams.  I was forced to walk the dogs alone and neither of them knows how to work a digital camera.

I can’t do it today because the Hub wants the dogs to have a ‘real’ walk (apparently I just pretend to put one foot in front of the other when I’m out) before the England game.  By that he means he wants to get back to watch the match after taking them to Alexandra Park, the dogs’ favourite place in the world after their food bowl. 

I did hope to use the slide on Gorsey Bank Park tomorrow, but the rain is closing in and I don’t have a spare pair of trousers ironed.

The Hub has promised to take me on the swings next week.  He’d better.  If he doesn’t…expect bruising.

A Few Unanswered Questions

12 Mar
Tap dancer at Tokyo Disney Sea

Image via Wikipedia

Because I’m anal retentive and can’t leave any out.

What’s your hidden talent?

I can tap dance.  Shuffleballchange.

Describe the town where you grew up.

No.  Done that already.  Here’s an extract (actually, it’s the wholetract):

I have been thinking about the place I grew up, Runcorn.  Most of the people on the council estates were Liverpool overspill so we all had Scouse accents despite living in Woollybackland.  We moved to Runcorn in 1972.  We had been there a couple of weeks and Mum had only met one neighbour, Ruth next door at number 12.  She had not met Lila on the other side at number 10, or any of the neighbours across the way. 

Early one morning there was a knock at the door.  Mum found a strange woman standing there, holding a plate containing one rasher of bacon.  There was no introduction or polite small talk, just straight to the heart of the matter.

Strange Woman: Hiya.  Have you got a sausage I can have to go with me bacon for me breakfast?

Mum: Errrrr…

Mum dug out a sausage and the strange woman went on her way.  Chatting to Ruth later on, Mum told her about this odd incident.  ‘Oh, that’s nothing,’ Ruth laughed.  ‘She got the bacon from Lila and came to me for the egg.’

The strange woman and her family later moved into a big house in a posher part of town; I wonder how they were able to afford it?


What’s the longest you’ve been without sleep?

All night, every time I’ve flown to and from South Africa and the UK.  I can’t sleep on planes because I’m always waiting for the crash.  My favourite hymn?  ‘Nearer, My God, To Thee.’


When is it better to be sorry than safe?

When answering stupid writing prompts so I don’t get kicked out of the WordPress club.


If you could bring one fictional character to life for a day, who would you choose?

Ender Wiggin, so I could show him that someone loves him.


Name a book that changed your life.

The Bible.  Sorry to go all predictable on you.


I’m So Glad Tory Boy Has Insomnia

1 Feb
serious sleeping disorder.gif

Image by Hrabina von Tup Tup via Flickr

The phone woke me up at the crack of dawn this morning.  The conversation went something like this:

Me: Huh?

TB: Hi Mum!

                  Me: Huh?

   Me: Huh?

             Me: Who?  Who this?

TB: It’s me.*

Me: Why are you phoning so early?

TB: You’ve blogged; I thought you were up.**

Me: What time is it?

TB: Ten-to-eight.

Me: Shriiiiieekkk.  I’ll call you back.


It appears I slept through my alarm.  I never sleep through my alarm so I must have forgotten to set it.  I never forget to set my alarm so I must have slept through it.  The last time I slept through my alarm I had been travelling for twenty-four hours straight and the phone woke me that time, too: it was my work, demanding to know where I was (in bed with a handsome man.  What a shame it took me twenty-three years to think of an amusing riposte).

I have no idea what happened this morning but I do know Spud was up, washed, brushed, dressed and on his way with a bag of toast by 8:05, all thanks to his insomniac brother, who had phoned to ask me to give him a wake-up call at twelve because he had only had an hour’s sleep.  Oh, the irony.

At least that answers slpmartin’s question yesterday of where my student son gets the time to control his mother’s life: he’s given up sleep for the duration.  I’m so glad.***


*Isn’t it funny how a mother immediately knows who ‘me’ is?  But weirdly, not until he says ‘It’s me’.

**The wonder that is the Publish Schedule button.

***Just kidding.  Honest. 

Those Who Can, Sleep

26 Aug

I’m tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I blame, well, everyone.

Tory Boy used an angle grinder to unlock his door; he said it was the key but I know a power tool when I hear one in the middle of the night as I’m just dropping off.

Spud did his thing of feeling ill at about two a.m. and standing over me until I woke up. It’s terrifying and one day he’s going to get a fist where he don’t want it because my barely-conscious mind will think he’s too big to be my baby and must be an intruder.

The Hub was the worst offender because not only did he collect Toby from our room to put him out for a wee, he also offered to stroke my hair to help me sleep once he had seen to the dogs, then took me at my word when I told him not to worry about it; he also left the hall light on so he could see not to fall over Molly in the dark (something we do a lot of). I can’t believe how selfish he is sometimes.

He should have more sympathy because he hasn’t slept properly himself, for several months. It got so bad that he finally agreed to see the doctor and it turns out he has something wrong with his sinuses that interrupts his breathing and wakes him up; and restless leg syndrome, which causes pain and wakes him up again. Or maybe it was just a cold and a bruised shin. I dozed off while he was telling me. He shouldn’t talk to me when I’m not interested; I can’t believe how selfish he is sometimes.


This is for Haiku Heights; the prompt was festival:

Edinburgh Festival

A magical land:
my adult self rues what my
teen self did not find.


I always wanted to go to the Edinburgh Festival and it is one of my very few regrets that I have never made it there. Or, being a glass half-full kind of girl, perhaps I should say it’s on my to do list of unfulfilled ambitions.

The Post Woman Only Slaps Once

28 Feb

I am just about to go to bed; I am having visitors tomorrow so I thought I would get my post in now and then I won’t have to worry about it. Bed is supposed to be a place of rest and recuperation (well it is at my age) but it wasn’t like that for the Hub last night: I turned over in my sleep and slapped him in the face. They say we do the things in our dreams that we would like to do in life but don’t have the courage for…poor Hub.

Before you start feeling sorry for him, let me tell you that I am not the only violent sleeper in this marriage: more than once he has dreamed he’s in a fight and has punched the wall. Sometimes he wakes up with a bruised hand and wonders why; sometimes I wake him up by yelling at him that he nearly got me that time. Then he mutters, ‘Curses!  Foiled again.’  Maybe we should think about separate beds or arguing less. No: when I suggested it we argued more.

We are great squabblers over stupid things: the door’s not quite shut; whichever one of us closed the curtains left a gap; the pillows are the wrong way round on the bed; one of us ate all the cheese & onion crisps. It used to bother me but now I think it works like a whistling kettle (on a stove top, naturally): a little tension is released each day so we avoid drying up and exploding. I have known the break up of couples who never argue; by annoying each other each day we are actually saving our marriage. That’s what I’ll tell him next time he moans that I didn’t take my empty cup into the kitchen. Right before I throw it at him.

I wonder if it’s the squabbles that make me punish the Hub in the night, when we are both asleep? Apparently, I often yank his pillow out from under him so that his head crashes to the mattress. It wouldn’t hurt when awake but he tells me it’s a shocker when you’re dreaming that Demi Moore has at last seen the light and dumped Ashton for a real man, and you suddenly find yourself flat on your back with a humped-back woman hogging the bed. The humped-back woman is me cuddling his pillow and imitating a chevron.

Then there is the matter of the duvet: the poor love is under the impression that, because he sleeps in the same bed, he’s entitled to a share in it; he has delusions of equality. Men think the funniest things, don’t they? He’ll be wanting more than a quarter of the mattress next.

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