Somehow mattresses and pillows have become exciting
If tiredness was measured in duvet togs I’d currently be at a winter-weight 13.5; my eyes made of crisps, my body a Frube. It’s been a long week, with a sick child who came and slept with me, her rolling body falling out of bed and on to the floor with a clinical thump every time I fell asleep. I tell you this knowing exactly how boring it is to talk about tiredness. Talking about sleep is as dull as talking about how much you drank the night before; as talking about the Labour party with a politics bro in a crowded bar. A brolitician. And yet, here I am.
I’m talking about it because I can, and I can because you are. Sleep, how little, how much, is a conversation you will hear in every office, every park. Whereas once it was a mark of honour to exist on only a couple of hours’ sleep (it meant you were working harder), now the opposite is true. To boast of eight hours is to explain that you have invested in your body, a temple of wellness, to optimise the day.
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