Last night was not a great night. For a start, I was worn out from all the shenanigans outlined in my last real-life blog entry. I was tired and worn out and out of spoons. I should have slept the sleep of the unjust.


I could not settle. Every car coming by could be the car that brought my Beloved home. I finally fell into a fitful slumber, only to wake once more in what I presume was the wee small hours.

I heard Beloved coughing in the next room.

So. One reason to relax - the love of my life was home and safe. One reason to stay awake - their coming to bed would wake me the fuck up anyway.

Sleep did not win, my friends. My rest was fitful and sporadic, and inevitably interrupted by Beloved finally coming to bed. I don't even know what time it was because my iWatch is in the repair shop.

Beloved immediately achieved the sleep of the unjust. And snored. And kept me in a fitful slumber for the remainder of my alleged time of rest.

So, of course, Beloved complained of tiredness and a lack of energy, leaving me to deliver Chaos safely to school no matter how much or how little sleep I managed to acquire.

Thanks, Beloved. I needed that, Beloved. One day, this level of nonse might land me and mine in hospital, Beloved. But people around me have a knack for treating me like the legendary seer, Cassandra. My words of truth will never be believed. Until they happen. And then nobody apologizes.

It's so frustrating.

I just want people to either listen in the first place or apologise when they didn't listen. Is that too hard?

Sigh. Evidently so.