Sleep deprived

I got into my hotel around 10 last night, closed the blinds, hung up my shirt, and went to bed. At 4am I was awoken by the crash and bang of the bins being moved below my window, and then the door of the wardrobe had opened and the light from inside glowered at me.

It was not enough to justify getting up to close the door, but enough to disturb my sleep, so when my alarm went off at 645 I struggled awake, bereft of any joy at being in the world.

Going to work wasn’t so bad, despite this. Or perhaps it was having twice as much coffee that got me through, until the early afternoon when the arse fell out of my world and I just wanted to crawl away and vanish Instead, phone calls and emails and questions of various levels of intelligence buffeted me until it was time to get an Uber back to the airport.

The car took half an hour to arrive, and then the driver was fairly erratic all the way to the airport. If I hadn’t been so tired, I might have been scared, or angry. But still, home now for some high quality sleep.

If my wife lets me sleep on the sofa, that is.

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