It’s no use. Given the chance, I revert to being a nocturnal animal. Despite my best efforts. I set the alarm for 9.30 this morning, and dragged myself out of bed when my phone went off in its particularly endearing shrill manner. Sat there yawning and drinking tea with me mum and vovo, struggling to wake up like a drowning swimmer reaches for the surface. Sure that tonight I would be able to slip off into sleep without a problem, with but a gentle murmur of pleasure, perhaps, as I slid under the sheets and dozed off.

No such luck. Got in bed at midnight, turned off the lights. Lay there for awhile anticipating sleep. Thinking, hot damn, look at me. I’m about to go to sleep. And then didn’t. After about fifteen minutes of fidgeting I turned on the light and picked up The Odyssey. Read a couple of chapters. Set it down, turned off the light. Here we go, I thought, practically rubbing my hands. Lights out!

Twenty minutes later I turned the lights back on and picked up my Horror Anthology. Read The Children of Monte Rossa by Reggie Oliver (quite good–eerie and strange and delightfully unsettling) and The Witch’s Headstone by Neil Gaiman (need I comment on the quality?), and then tried again. This time I wasn’t excited. I was verging on despondency. Off went the light, and I lay there with a frown, staring at the ceiling. Ten minutes passed. Bollocks, I thought, turned the light back on and picked up another book.

Bad move, that. This time I picked up Prince of Stories, the biography thing written on Gaiman. Bad, bad move. I turned to the back and read their super extensively long interview with him, where he goes over his life as a child and teenager, focusing especially on what he read and how it affected him. By the time I’d gotten up to his early twenties I was positively buzzing with energy. Plans were fizzing through my head, plots and ways to accomplish that which is paramount in my life: to become – a writer! (published, preferably, and with huge advances that then pay out.)

I sprang out of bed, and sat down at the comp. Ah ha! I thought, time to set down a plan, to plot a course. What should my first step be? I should endeavour to write regularly, of course, and read voraciously. Good, good. But, I need to be able to absorb what I read, and bring my full faculties to bear on what I write. No good doing so while half zombified. No no no. I need to be keen, alert, sharp as a thief’s pickpocket knife so as to comprehend, digest, absorb. How can I best do that?

By getting a lot of sleep.

I just looked at the clock. Past 2am.

Dammit.

Ah well. No worries, I’ll get up early tomorrow, say around 9am, no matter how hard that might prove. Get up early, spend the day tired, and I’ll be sure to go to sleep on time tomorrow. No doubt in my mind whatsoever.

None. (sigh)