I’m not a morning person. I live with three people who can testify to that. I function, but I’m not really awake until … ooh about midday. On a good day. It’s not that I need ten cups of coffee to wake me up. I just need more sleep. Quite simple.
Talking of simple … this morning’s faux pas would have seen me bypass all auditions, pass Go, collect £200 and appear on the next series of Tool Academy.
To set the scene a little … I don’t go to bed very early anymore. I seem to find myself writing into the small hours as there just don’t seem to be enough hours in the day to get everything else done. So last night, I went to bed at 12 – pretty early for me, and set my alarm for 5.45, to get my Other Half to the train station in time.
I semi-knew I’d snoozed the alarm too many times. But you know when you’re just so tired you don’t give a toss? Yeah, that. So, in my defence m’lud, I was running really late.
I first realised something was wrong when I was looking for my OH’s trainers to pack into his bag. Everything looked murky. His trainers are bright orange – why couldn’t I see them! And then I started to panic.
I couldn’t see. I kept blinking (I like blinking I do,) but it wouldn’t clear. Visions of visiting my Nan in Moorfields hospital when she had her cataracts removed came flooding back. Had I inherited cataracts overnight? Was that possible?
I felt for my glasses, just to make sure I’d actually put them on. They’re never the cleanest of glasses and so perhaps they just needed a wipe (please God, let the glasses just be dirty – please don’t make me have to have my eyes clamped open and my eyeballs lasered!)
As I reached for my glasses, they somehow felt different.
And then I realised what I’d done. In my haste to get out of bed, I’d reached for my glasses on my bedside cabinet and … put on my sunglasses instead of my reading glasses.
Moral of the story? Step away from the laptop and go the hell to bed.