Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Dream A Little Dream Of Me (Performing Get Back)


So I've come home for the afternoon after my already grotesquely swollen throat took a turn for the worse after I gave my first ever lecture (which went pretty well, actually; I must have gotten the sympathy vote). At this point it's so bad that each time it spasms (which it does quite frequently, it actually blocks my trachea, which isn't really very much fun.

I haven't had much in the way of sleep, either. I desperately need some kip. But here's the thing: I'm genuinely afraid to go to bed. The last two nights my dreams (which were what I recognise as fever dreams despite me not seeming to have much or even any temperature) were so bad that I genuinely believed I was going mad. I wake up every half hour or so literally unable to make my brain work. Last night, presumably because I fell asleep reading Q, I woke every half hour or so believing myself to be an entire band. Not an entire band in the sense of Dave Grohl essentially being the Foo Fighters, an entire band in the sense of all four Beatles at the same time). And I was being chased by paparazzi armed with empty plastic sprues (that one is probably Space Hulk's fault). I knew I was awake, I knew I was in bed, but my brain insisted I had to get away from the crazy journalists who were trailing me because I was an entire band and they hated me for it.

I don't really have a point here, except to say that my brain is scary, and that if anyone knows how to perform an emergency tracheotomy, then tips would be appreciated (though no volunteers, you people stay the hell away from me).

Still, it's not all bad. My refusal to sleep led to me being around to open the door to a very nice woman who was conducting a political survey, so my ridiculous liberal "spend all money on everything" views are now rolling around the system. She also reminded me that the problems with political polls is that the sample set is almost always biased against unsociable, suspicious bastards, so I'm glad I could help out with that.

Also, no day is completely wasted when you get to type "sleepy moon" into Google.

9 comments:

Chemie said...

1) Ring Doctor use word 'emergency'
2) Go to Doctor
3) Collect lovely drugs
4) Sleep

SpaceSquid said...

Or: force a curly straw in there, pretend I've started a new fashion. Mainly a fashion involving gurgling and choking, obviously...

Chemie said...

1) Not be a pillock
2) Ring Doctor use word 'emergency'
3) Go to Doctor
4) Collect lovely drugs
5) Sleep

Senior Spielbergo said...

If your feeling like the word "emergency" is too strong - the other all important phrase is "effecting your quality of life".

Chemie said...

1) Realise you should have done what I said hours ago
2) Ring Doctor use word 'emergency' or possibly 'urgent' or Spielbergo phrase.
3) Go to Doctor
4) Collect lovely drugs
5) Sleep

If Doctors is not open:

1) Attempt to gargle with soluble aspirin
2) Buy strongest over the counter remedy
3) Take it
2) Drink orange juice and tea
3) Eat soup
4) Call doctor in the morning as stated above

SpaceSquid said...

I decided to start off on Lemsip first, which reduced the swelling enough for me to breathe fine, and allow my dreams to become essentially normal (i.e. entirely within my normal insane parameters).

Pause said...

On which note (and continuing the dual Beatles/dream themes on offer) I will never forget your story about the Blue Meanies. But it's good to hear you're feeling a bit better.

SpaceSquid said...

Apparently I've forgotten it...

Pause said...

I thought you might; the memory was probably crushed under the weight of far superior efforts, like that football team of French Decepticons. Beating Bay to robotic racism by a... er, by a decent decade. (Sorry.)

But that just means I'll get to remind you of it at a suitably inappropriate moment.

(If I was you I'd blame them on the college dinners.)