The nights become days,
The days all blur into one -
Fog of exhaustion.
Insomnia has been an intermittent curse of my life since childhood, but mercifully rare. And most of the time it is more a case of taking three or four hours to nod off or having a very broken night's sleep, rather than having no sleep at all. And instances of this have, I think, almost invariably been isolated: of course, after one crappy night's sleep, you're so run down that you sleep like a log the following night to recover.
But not this week. No, something very strange has happened to me this week: I managed barely a wink of sleep from Sunday through to Wednesday. I can't blame the fireworks. That has been an issue in years past, but this year people seem to be observing some sort of curfew and things have been remarkably quiet between about 1am and 7am. Unfortunately, I have been wide awake to appreciate how quiet it has been!
Now, I am wretchedly brainfogged and feel as though I probably need to spend the entire weekend in bed to try to catch up on my sleep deficit.
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