If nothing else, then writing a daily post has highlighted to me how badly I manage my personal time, what a massively impatient patient I am and how tired I often seem to be.
Of these three, the last is the one that has surprised me. Years ago, when I was running a pub working 90 hour weeks and drinking like a Viking, it seemed perfectly natural to feel tired to the point of homicide, but that was many years ago.
Now, I have a largely 9-5 job (although it does break out and do mad things every now and again), pretty much most weekends off, I have been largely alcohol free for the year, with the odd exception when on holiday. I eat plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables and exercise everyday so although I could lose a good few kilos in weight there should be no reason for this constant fatigue.
I may have got a clue, though, this morning. I had a meeting last night so by the time I got in and did what I had to do it was half eleven before I hit the sack. My husband was up at half four, his alarm waking us both, and I had just drifted back off when I became aware of him moving around the house with the delicacy of a Death Star Storm Trooper. He had mislaid his work pass and although he found it and then left, I then worried that he might have left his key in the door, distracted because he was running late, so got up to check. The door was clear, but it was now 5.35 am and if I went back to sleep, I knew that I would fall into a series of rapid and complex dreams – a suite of dreams, like a mini series – and then be jarred awake at six feeling nauseous and exhausted. I know this because it happened yesterday.
So I put the kettle on, made a cup of tea and crawled back under the duvet to ease my way into the day.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a cup of tea in bed on a dark winter morning, but if my calculations are correct, I had enjoyed only six hours’ sleep. I need eight. I am an eight-hour sleeper, and on the whole lark versus owl thing, I am very much in camp owl. I suspect this is probably is what is causing me to feel so tired all the time.
Like most people, when I am tired I am a little grumpy and today we had to finish off bits we were doing to help with an event taking place tomorrow. It is not my team’s event, we came in to help out (well, muscled in if truth be told) but instead of replacing non-essential staff on the group of people assembled to run the show, we were added to them, and as the group grew, so did the list of tasks that needed to be discussed. Once we were in, it was tricky to get out.
When we run an event, we split the tasks up: venue, catering, guest list, VIP liaison etc but this event seemed to have a to-do list which built like ticker tape in the streets after a parade. It is a really simple thing: two speeches and some food, but thanks to some extreme admining, it has almost sunk under the weight of the paperwork.
I am glad we were asked to help out though, even if just to lend our experiences at dealing with the million things that go wrong and being prepared for them. So when the VIP guest and keynote speaker had to withdraw, we had a plan in place already, when the photographer collapsed with flu this afternoon, we had someone else we could call on and when some iPad stands arrived and there was panic because they were portrait not landscape, we were able to contact the hire company and establish that they had a secret button on the back that allowed them to swivel.
So it has been good to help the guys out, and hopefully, given that our approach is to lock down everything you can control and expect everything you cannot, to go wrong, we should be OK on the day. We shall see. We have done what we can to ensure it goes smoothly and thankfully, given that we were never allowed full control of the event, I should at least not lose any sleep over it tonight.