So last night I got into bed, hoping an episode of Location, Location, Location will prove to be just the right tonic for sleep to set in.
(And yes, I am well aware of the link between device activity and insomnia. Just given me a break; I’m on holiday).
The usual bed routine is mad enough. OCD sorting of pillows. Adjustment of duvet and sheet. Making sure the latter is tucked so tight my squirmy legs have no chance of moving through the night. A slather of lip balm. The preventative blowing of the nose.
All checked off. All good. But then. The horrors. Somehow, and I don’t know how, the duvet had managed to fold itself under the cover. A big fold of duvet resulting in a useless flap of duvet cover.
Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking: what’s the issue here? Sort the problem out and get back to The Kirsty and Phil Flirt Fest (because, isn’t that the only reason we all watch the show? The whole will-they-won’t they scenario? Although, if truth be told, the main reason I watch the show to get a glimpse of Kirsty’s aquamarine beauty. I love that ring. I want to marry it. Satisfaction in life will not truly happen until I own a sparkler like that. But am getting off topic…)
The issue of mushed-up duvet would not be an issue to those whose brain has a perfectly symmetrical chemical balance. Not mine. I imagine my brain as a set of old fashioned brass scales, and whatever my brain lacks, or has too much of, causes the scales to tip out of balance with the type of regularity which should o my apply to bowel movements. Or eating. The odds are definitely not in my favour.
So the shrieking high-pitched squealing escapes my mouth, alerting Mr Thomas to the fact that
a) our cat has again decided I am the enemy, and has therefore begun to attack me with growls, hisses, bites and taps to the ankle with her astonishingly strong paws
b) there is a spider within eyesight and while, in public, I act bravely in such situations and am able to cup said spider in a glass with ease, in private I become a hysterical mess.
c) there is a hair where hair shouldn’t be: on my shirt, on the floor, in the bed, or in other places I will not mention and deny at all costs
d) I am having a complete and utter breakdown of high proportions over something completely inconsequential
Ding ding ding! D is the winner, today, folks.
So Mr Thomas came in and tried his best to keep the smiling to a minimal as I explained in a pitch that was affecting every dog in the neighbourhood what the problem was.
‘The duvet… is… not… it’s folded… twisted… I can’t… it’s not…’
Somehow (and it might be due to our twelve year relationship) Mr Thomas was able to understand my predicament.
In that annoying long-armed way of his, Mr Thomas was able to flick the duvet until it righted itself; the corner of the duvet and its cover aligning to a no-ga perfection. And that was it. Problem solved. Anxiety subsided.
I know, of course, that in any other given moment I would not have been flustered by a mangled duvet, but my anxiety is already at high levels. It always is before a trip. The thought of having to pack four weeks of my life into a suitcase is positively petrifying. And while I am the queen of the To Do List, and there is nothing more satisfying than checking something off a list (I know I’m not the only one who understood Monica’s ‘check!’ Obsession in that episode of Friends: ‘The one in Barbados Part One‘) yet my issue is, and always will be: what if I don’t remember to write something into he list?
The worst thing that can happen? I forget something and have to buy it while on holiday. A very rational thought, but it can be terribly difficult to be rational when one is a sufferer from anxiety.
Like, for example, being kept up at night at the thought of having to complete every item on my To Do list. Which would take about an hour in reality and said To Do list is written in my Midori Traveler’s Notebook which I am beyond excited at being able to use on actual travels. Such irrational thoughts! And yet, they can not be abated.
The decision may have to be made to take the anti-anxiety tablets reserved for actual plane flight in the days prior, just to calm the nerves. Would prevent another duvet-related calamity, that’s for sure.
I may just do that. There’s not much else I can do about it. I will always be a sufferer of anxiety. It is what it is.