The Journal of a Seasonal, Mild Insomniac

It’s the middle of the night when I wake. I initially feel confused and weirded out; the ghost of a dream flickers away into the stuffy air.  It’s still dark out, and hot; my eyes are as muggy and I flounder about the bedside table looking for my phone to check the time.4.37 AM. Upsettingly, I knock a glass of water on top of myself and the lukewarm liquid runs down my arm. I am now drenched, annoyed and wide awake. An average mid-summers night that doesn’t involve donkeys or magic.

My own Mid-Summer Night's Dream

My own Mid-Summer Night’s Dream

When it is cold (which is pretty much 97% of the time where I live) I sleep lightly, but well.

When it is hot (my definition of hot being anything above 20 degrees celsius) I do not sleep. I get rings as dark as a Dementor’s baby under my eyes and become a shadow of my former self. I turn into a horrible person who literally growls at people during daylight hours.

Sleep is gold dust to me.



Recently, for a number of reasons, I have been given cause to appreciate my life and some of the simple yet great aspects of it, such as sleep. Cheesy it may be, but everyone seems to just speed through everyday on some kind of automated mode, not acknowledging how utterly lucky they are to have a car, never mind shoes, or would you believe it, feet to go places with. A small number seem to feel comfortable fermenting in the perceived “mundanity of life”, all the while complaining about the economy, weather and whatever else they don’t understand. I wholeheartedly admit that I too am guilty of giving out about the trivial. Who isn’t? It’s natural. It feels good to complain.


Anyway, I’m here to do the opposite. I’m here to “not complain”. I’m here to say that I am thankful for everything that has been handed to me. I am in general good health, I am of sound mind (at least I think so, the day I stop asking questions I’ll reconsider) and sort-of sound body (I should probably go for a run tomorrow). My family and friends are always one-hundred percent supportive and there for me. All this plus the added bonus of having food, water and a house to live in. I am in third-level education despite my gender/nationality/status/age/anything else that in my opinion is totally irrelevant. I’m also one of the lucky ones who isn’t oppressed, abused, discriminated against, down-trodden or illiterate. I have ten fingers and ten toes. I have a modest bank account. I’ve got my FREEDOM. I have some sort of spirituality (no religion yet; maybe someday, probably not). Everything I could ever need and want. I add on to this list a part-time job and I already have more than a dozen things to be happy for. Oh and it doesn’t stop there, but I won’t say anymore.


Sorry I couldn’t help it.

The most fascinating and frustrating thing about humans is that so many,although deserving of it, don’t
have many of the things I have. And yet they are happy in spite of it. There are people in this life who have nothing, not even a scrap of clothing to put on their backs. Remarkably, they are so unbelievably grateful to be alive. Conversely, there are people who drive around in their ferraris, the boot stuffed with Prada bags and shoes, weeping their eyes out on the inside, trying to dry the tears with more money. Trying to fill a gap that’s just getting bigger. I’m not saying that having money is a bad thing at all, just an excess of money. As a wise woman once said; “Money can’t buy happiness, but it does make things a lot easier when you are unfortunate.”

All the same I still think that this image is quite powerful:

So yeah, sleep is wonderful. A dear friend. It’s great. But if I still get to keep my eyesight/ literacy/ fresh drinking water, I’ll shut-up with the complaining in future and pick up a book until I fall asleep again. At least I’ve a nice bed to sit on while I wait.





This post is dedicated to my liver. You take up most of the anterior abdominal cavity, something I didn’t realise until I studied anatomy. You are an absolutely massive part of my life and I am so grateful for all the glycogen you have stored and fats you have broken down for me over the years. Also, I heard that you are the only organ that can regenerate? Award to the most underrated organ ever! Thank you for everything. I love you.


“Be who you wanna be”-Barbie


Happiness is a warm puppy.

Ok, first off I would like to apologise for the delay in making this blog post. I’ve been busy with college and study. Exams are two months away which means my emotional state lies somewhere between a mild fear of failure and blind panic. This usually happens to me the night before an exam, when the stress procures for me a sort of short-term memory loss.  In fact, it sometimes gets to such a state that I can no longer count numbers, spell words and remember basic facts like my own name. In retrospect, it’s sort of funny. I mean,  I’m supposed to be remembering things like how to read an ECG trace and memorising the course of the radial nerve, and yet I can’t even focus enough to add up how much I need to pass the module.  I think it must be some sort of defense mechanism. My brain usually shuts off twenty four hours before an exam. 


Luckily enough, I have figured out a way to cope with this. I find the less stressed I am, the more I am likely to remember things. I know that everyone is different and yes, exams will always be stressful no matter what and so on. The answer (for me anyway) is to sit outside in the garden beside my dog. If it is raining or the dog is busy licking the plaster off the walls (Buddy likes to do this, he always looks like he has been snorting cocaine, dangerous habit I know, but he can’t be persuaded otherwise), I watch videos of cute puppies playing on youtube. Now, as my family and friends are aware, I am a “self-confessed dog lover”.  I don’t understand people that don’t like dogs and I feel interminably sorry for those unlucky beings that possess an allergy. I find happiness in the fact that no matter how much of an asshole the rest of the world thinks you are, your dog will always think that you are God’s gift to creation. Why not? You feed them, take them for walkies and scratch them behind the ears. That’s pretty much all a dog wants out of life. That in return for undying companionship.  Good auld Marilyn knew what she was talking about:

“Dogs never bite me, humans do”.


Anyway, I have to make the point that dogs are simply one of my favourite things in life. Don’t get me wrong, I love other animals as well. Cats are great, horses are slick and most wingéd beasts are pretty fly.  Please try not to navigate away from the page after reading that. I couldn’t resist the allure of the mighty pun. To get to the point, I have composed a very special list below that I hope you will enjoy. Even if you aren’t a dog lover.

Things that are great ’bout canines, y’all:

 1. Puppy eyes.


But I wuv you

2.  Dem ears. There are over twelve different types of muscles in a dog’s ears. Say what? 


“Yes, I am anatomically superb”

3. If you are seventy and own sixteen dogs, it ultimately makes you quite cool. Turning out to be a crazy dog lady instead of a crazy cat lady is actually quite an exciting prospect.


She’s got s-wag. 

4. Dogs went to Space before humans. 


Commander Dawg at your service.

5. There is a dog called the Peruvian Inca Orchid and he looks like this:


6. There are dogs that look exactly like their owners. Sometimes, things are just right in the world.



We all love Buzzfeed. Click for more doggie/human twins. 🙂


8. The ancient Mbaya Indians of the Gran Chaco in South America believed that humans originally lived underground until dogs dug them up.

9. More history. Dogs have lived with humans for over 14,000 years. Cats have lived with people for only 7,000 years. Cold felines. *eugh*


10. Cesar Millan is in a job because of dogs.


“The dog is a reflection of your energy.”

11. Dogs will always admit when they are wrong.

12. Dogs are just fab. And they know it.

From this day forward, in all stressful moments, may you go forth with the determination of a dog:


Dedicated to Aisling McGowan. A dog enthusiast.