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the dead zone
Tuesday, 20 September 2005 02:15 pmI do not want these sleeping habits, they are skr-aaaaa-tched. Sunday night was rendered hideous by the usual insomnia, and thereafter, once I did get to sleep, horrible dreams, culminating in an episode where I woke up to find myself crouched next to the bed with my duvet held above my head to stop the rain of arrows from the ceiling from actually hitting me. Bloody half-dreaming hallucinations are so vivid, I could damned well hear the beastly things thudding into the fabric. It took me a while to wake up enough to realise that there were no arrows, and to apologise to the cat (who was somewhat bemused and hurt at being flung unexpectedly across the room by my sleep-walking) and get back into bed. I suspect I'm reacting to the slings and arrows of my outrageous academic life.
So I had a headache all of yesterday from lack of sleep, and a codeine hangover most of today. There's a singular terror in spending 15 minutes reading through notes for the lecture you're about to give, only to realise that you haven't taken in a word. Fortunately actual trial revealed that I can, in fact, lecture on Frankenstein more or less in my sleep. Memo to self, teaching material may be stagnating. The lecture appears to have been more or less coherent, although one student did come up to me afterwards to let me know that my habit of referring to "Christian mythology" is causing him emotional distress. Drug-hazed or not, I think I managed to convey my essential and absolute failure of empathy in reasonably friendly and professional terms.
The day was not assisted by me staggering into the kitchen just after waking up and dressing, to discover it occupied by an entirely unknown man in overalls. This was alarming, as I thought I'd heard the Evil Landlord leave for work 20 mins earlier. In fact, it transpired that he was discussing garage-building operations with the architect and builder - they start next week, right outside my bedroom window, oh joy. I wish he'd warn me about these visits, my experience of intruders in the house is sufficient that it gave me an adrenalin jolt that made me shaky for the next half hour. A fact, may I add, that the Evil Landlord finds hilarious. *growl*
So I had a headache all of yesterday from lack of sleep, and a codeine hangover most of today. There's a singular terror in spending 15 minutes reading through notes for the lecture you're about to give, only to realise that you haven't taken in a word. Fortunately actual trial revealed that I can, in fact, lecture on Frankenstein more or less in my sleep. Memo to self, teaching material may be stagnating. The lecture appears to have been more or less coherent, although one student did come up to me afterwards to let me know that my habit of referring to "Christian mythology" is causing him emotional distress. Drug-hazed or not, I think I managed to convey my essential and absolute failure of empathy in reasonably friendly and professional terms.
The day was not assisted by me staggering into the kitchen just after waking up and dressing, to discover it occupied by an entirely unknown man in overalls. This was alarming, as I thought I'd heard the Evil Landlord leave for work 20 mins earlier. In fact, it transpired that he was discussing garage-building operations with the architect and builder - they start next week, right outside my bedroom window, oh joy. I wish he'd warn me about these visits, my experience of intruders in the house is sufficient that it gave me an adrenalin jolt that made me shaky for the next half hour. A fact, may I add, that the Evil Landlord finds hilarious. *growl*
