Urk. I have had bouts of insomnia ever since I can remember. My brain decides that night-time is terribly exciting and there are hundreds of important things that need thinking and worrying about RIGHT NOW. It is like a small child that refuses to go to sleep and keeps calling out for a bedtime story and a glass of juice. It also decides that it is very important to consider such questions as "What would a cross between a spider and a Macaque monkey look like?" and "Why is a grapefruit called a grapefruit, anyway?" Not-sleeping used to make me awfully anxious, and still does on occasion, but I try not to give it too much attention. If I'm wakeful, I'm wakeful. There's nothing wrong with having a cup of tea in the early hours and watching a bit of late-night telly. It's when you start to fret about being awake that it can really send you into a tail-spin, I find. Or perhaps that's just me!
One of the advantages of being a writer, I guess, is that insomnia can sometimes provide a certain inspiration - even if you do crash in the morning. So I'm up at 1am working on a chapter.
More photos are materialising from Saturday night - these ones from the beautiful
Laura.
From left: Aisha (I am probably spelling this wrongly - I'm so sorry!); Ashley; Sandhya; me; Rose; Joanna; Laura.
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