Hypersomnia

Firstly, I have to thank Ma Soeur Ruth (because she is making me) for going and buying me some milk this morning. It took some persuading, namely explaining the pros and cons of AV, the promise of a thank-you on my world famous blog, and some chocolate, but eventually she left the house, screaming in that slightly petulant way of hers that if I'd have got up earlier than 11 o'clock, there might have been some milk left, which brings me very nicely on to the point of this post.

All the way through my childhood, I have woken up at unholy hours of the morning, dragging a string of parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins and even friends* out of bed with me**. This seemed, for reasons I couldn't fathom, to annoy them quite acutely. Often I would sit and wait for HOURS outside their bedroom door, until at the entirely reasonable hour of seven o'clock I would knock politely, run in, scream and most likely jump on them. On one occasion I interrupted a slightly... intimate... ritual in the making (the screaming was for another reason on that occasion), on another I landed directly on my poor tea-sipping grandma (yet another reason to start screaming). So, after quite a few scoldings and scaldings, and a fair bit of innocence lost, I learned to amuse myself. Oh, not in that way. You're making  your own jokes here, you realise? There's really no point me righting this if you're going to collapse in a fit of giggles at your own perverse humour before I've even got to the point. So yes, I really couldn't see what the rest of the world enjoyed so much about bed, even after I'd learned a bit about what some people, ahem, enjoyed about bed.

That's all changed now. I will emerge from my bedroom now at an hour so holy it has it's own patron saint, scratching the bits of me that can't be mentioned and generally looking like I'd rather still be asleep. Apparently this is called Hypersomnia, which is strange, because there really isn't anything hyper about my sleep-befuddled behaviour. It's not complete opposite of insomnia, because even if you have trouble getting to sleep you can still have trouble waking up. In fact, in a house filled with as much bloodshed and inter-sibling feud as mine***, I've often wondered while lying awake at night if I'd wake up in the morning. But that's an entirely different matter.

The problem is I'm just a bit lazy, and in the same way I know I won't have time to do the homework properly the next night, but still leave it until the last minute, sometimes not even then, I know that if I want a good breakfast, I'll have to leave the comfort and warmth of my bed. But I won't   

*Yes, I have a couple of those.
**Their beds, not mine.
***Most of the time, we actually get along really well. But when we do battle, we do battle properly.