I have never been much of a sleeper. I admire people who can sleep through anything. On planes. In hospitals. On buses. In cars. My brain never stops. There is a constant hum of activity. And it’s exhausting. I wonder if bimbos sleep well…they probably do…unless they stay up worrying which shade of lipstick suits them best…


I am not being fair. I must say, it is not always the most intellectual of thoughts that keep me up at night.

Here are some examples:

1. Imagine if you could buy a baby from a showroom like a car. You know, finding the best model, really thinking about the investment, considering a bank loan.

2. How to tell a person that they smell bad. I have been wracking my brains on how to tell someone nicely. There is no nice way. ‘You have a lovely smile and a good heart. Your body odour simply doesn’t match, but that can be remedied, yes?’ Nope, that still sounds insulting. ‘Can I lend you my shower gel? It’s all tropical and coconutty, you can smell like a piña colada!’ Nope. Maybe challenge them to a water balloon fight and fill the balloons with soapy water? And perfumed oils?

3. Convincing myself that I am a superhero. Ok, I can’t fly or shoot webbing from my wrist or grow muscles and turn green when I’m angry. But I can carry patients twice my size. I have an encyclopaedic knowledge of medicines. I’m not grossed out by vomit. I deal with villains all the time. I help the ill and vulnerable. I have an alter ego, the sweet, pretty, floral-dress-loving, wifely, innocent, flutey-voiced Marie. I am so totally a superhero. I should have my own comic book…

4. Imagine if you could tell a certain person precisely what you think of them. I am of the idea that if you can’t say something nice, say nothing at all. But sometimes, you need to give some people a little sass. I picture dramatic, tv-series-worthy sass attacks on my main offenders, with finger wagging, impressive use of vocabulary and a fantastic storm out when I’m done, which leaves all and sundry flabbergasted. Ooh, just the very thought makes me jittery.

5. Endless planning. Dear Lord, I love a good plan. May it be what I’m going to cook or world domination. It’s why I love chess. You can plan your attack without causing too much damage. I plan possible clinical scenarios and what I would do. I get irrationally upset when my plans get wrecked. And poor you if you are the bastard who ruins my plans. You will definitely get some sass. Polite sass, but nonetheless sass.

So precisely, I can get no sleep. I don’t eat late and I work-out every day to try tire myself out. I find myself getting pretty tired after work, the operation lists have increased and I have a curse-as soon as my butt hits a chair in hospital, something happens that makes me need to get up: a CPR, a patient faints, some machinery malfunctions, a paediatric patient wants a cuddle (see, I am a superhero) and all these things need to be fixed.

Sigh. I guess there are worse things in the world. At least I have a bed to sleep in…and shelter…

I wonder if Batman slept hanging upside down?

Maybe I’ll try nap later.

Have a great Sunday y’all xxx