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One of the (maybe few) good things about our old house was that it stayed pretty cool in the summer (also icy cold in the winter, which was not so good, but luckily I got loads of free heating!).
On the downside it tried to kill us with carbon monoxide, had rodents in the kitchen ceiling and was full of ghosts.
The new house heats up pretty nice in the sunshine and is hot at night time and last night and tonight I had very interrupted sleep as I sweated and turned (no tossing - it was too hot for that) and existed in a realm between dream and wakefulness where my brain was plagued with weird ideas and thoughts, but I knew I was in bed and felt like I wasn't sleeping.
If I was asleep then I woke up feeling like I had no sleep. If I was awake, that would explain that.
So my sweaty night time experience made me feel detached from reality and confused about what was going on, which led to a daytime experience where I was definitely awake (unless life is a computer simulation or someone else's dream) but still detached from reality, like I was constantly just to the right of the person called Richard Herring and had little to no control of his actions or knowledge of what he was thinking. Or at least that Richard Herring was blurred, like a fly squashed on a windscreen and no longer a complete entity.
Sometimes I get an extreme version of this on stage when I am doing a show I know very well and which runs pretty much automatically and I then leave my body (I feel I go to the left on these occasions) and am thinking about something else entirely, or worse the disembodied me starts trying to undermine the embodied one and heckles or questions what would happen if I forgot how to talk or even more worryingly breathe.
The performance one comes from a dilution of a focused space, whereas the exhausted one comes from a smushing of an already vague one. Like being stoned. Or more accurately like you were really stoned yesterday and need to deal with the real world today.
Coincidentally I was really stoned yesterday (I wasn't mum - I very rarely ever got stoned and the last time was over 20 years ago and I stopped because it made me paranoid for three days - or maybe 20 odd years and this is all just part of the come down).
It's interesting that I feel these versions of me go right and left and I just googled which shoulder the devil sits on and it's the left one. Which checks out. The persona that goes left and attempts to make my brain stop working is horribly evil like the devil. That would mean that the angel on the other shoulder is a stoner (how come you get the actual devil on the left, but only one of God's minions on the right?) which possibly checks out. If Heaven is as thick with marijuana smoke as any city centre in the UK then that wuld certainly explain the way that God's creation has gone and why divine intervention is so vague and unhelpful.
Luckily I don't have much work to do and once the kids were at school could fritter another precious day of existence playing online poker and watching New Tricks and eating ice cream.
Some like it hot. Not me. It turns my brain into a Solero that melts and turns to sludge. Sure when it cools down my brain will solidify again, but like a melted and refrozen Solero, it's not the same afterwards. Recognisable as what it once was, but out of shape, full of ice crystals and unpleasant to eat.
The metaphor has started to break down. Though if anyone wants to eat my brain after this heatwave is over, I think it might prove more accurate than I realise.
Somehow I built up the energy to play a damp (from sweat, not from sexy bodily fluids like normal) frame of Me1 Vs Me2 Snooker. It's been a whil and somehow the space is now even more restricted than ever. But it's a fine frame.
Listen here.Or if that's too challenging for you,
you can watch it here. I blamed Chris Evans, not that one, for the audio not working, but I had turned off the mic to save the battery. And I did manage to save the battery, so it worked out how I wanted.
