Most nights, within two minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I will have received an email, a Facebook message, a Facebook comment, a text or a phone call. Or perhaps all five.
It doesn’t matter when I go to bed or when I say I’m going to bed. It doesn’t matter how late or how decidedly not late I stay up watching V, House or How I Met Your Mother, you always know.
Even if I’m lying in bed reading and I’m not ready for sleep yet, the moment I decide that it is sleepy time, the world wakes up and demands my attention.
I strongly suspect that my housemate has his ear to the wall or a camera in my room and when he sees my moment of drowsiness, he flicks a switch which activates a beacon in the sky which alerts all of you that now is the time to contact me. Curse you Ian, you always were a shifty git.
It’s not as if it’s only a select few of you either. People I haven’t heard from in months choose this time to send me an "omg its lyk totes ages since i seen ya" text which, aside from prompting my barf reflex, begs the question – HOW DO THEY KNOW?
It’s as if the universe doesn’t want me to sleep or perhaps it merely has a very strange way of telling me that I don’t need my beauty sleep because I’m beautiful enough already. Yeah. Whatever. Just stop.
This is me during my "revision" period.