I threw myself out of bed last night. I can’t recommend it. I had been dreaming about a comedienne who did a great routine (well done Aisling), then she introduced a two-piece singing group who were singing a lovely song that I was sure I had heard before. I was chatting to a man with a strong West Indian accent about the music when, as so often happens, crocodile-shaped space aliens descended en masse and tried to eat us all. I attempted to twist out of the way of one…and ended up on the floor, via the handles of my bedside drawers.

Now I wouldn’t normally give that a second thought, but I have done this a few times over recent months and combined with some other sleep issues I am having, I am aware that they can (in rare cases) be signs of other conditions. I’m sure that’s probably not the case, but I have asked for GP phone call so I can add this to my record in relation to sleep. I am not happy with my sleep at all, and medical people can only assist if they have the fullest picture.

I used the NHS online features to report the issue although it appears “I threw myself out of bed” is not a symptom the system recognises !

So then it has been on to deal with the other sleep factor, my older dog. Bugsy has had problems for more than half a year now, where he wakes early in the morning and scratches at furniture to wake me up. The odd thing is that he doesn’t seem to want a specific thing – just to be reassured really. As anyone who knows him will attest, that is not his usual behaviour. During the day he wants me to be observable at all times, but ideally not within touching distance.

As you might imagine, being repeatedly woken during the night to touch the dog’s back, is very draining. I can take him outside (where he sniffs but does not do anything concrete) and that will get me a slightly longer break, but he wakes me up again soon. I feed him, turn lights on, turn heating on…but nothing seems to be a specific cure for his concern. So we are operating under the working theory that he has some doggy dementia and are trying to support him with that. I know I could just shut him in the kitchen but the thought that he could be down there unhappy is not one I am comfortable with. We continue to play with drugs and natural supplements, and may next consult a Veterinary Behaviourist.

So Bugsy had a blood test (every six months to check the pills aren’t hurting him) and I picked up a load of pills and potions. Then we went to a nearby park. It was raining heavily so today became the first welly boot day. I won’t know if that has set my toes off until the painkillers wear out later. Winston had an amazing time chasing sticks into the water, and we met a nice man with three dogs, and they played a bit too. Rain is really not so bad if you have the right gear. Which reminds me, I should buy some right gear !

Now I am trying to stay motivated. I will keep getting things done as long as I don’t stop. The minute I take a five minute break, as my lovely friend Janet would tell you, it turns into fiiiiiive minutes, a period of indeterminate length where shit-all will be achieved. I’ve done some gentle tidying, done some stuff here on the computer, and now the washing machine is pinging me for attention. Let’s see how long it lasts.