I'm just back from a long weekend in Ireland, visiting my parents. I always sleep like a new born when I'm there. It's difficult to pin the very welcome blame for this on one cause; it's probably a combination of events: the clean air, the peace, the restful ambiance, the good food and the heavy consumption of Guinness. Each plays its part I suppose.
The odd thing is though as soon I step back onto English soil I'm unable to slumber, which makes no sense. Take last night for example. I spent the majority of the day in Ireland, so I had a plenty of exposure to clean air. I ate well, and because of the travelling, I arrived home in a fatigued state. The wife and I then popped out for a couple of sharpeners before dinner to bring the curtain down on the festivities. But could I sleep last night? Could I feck. The only conclusion I can come to, therefore, is that I'm allergic to England. It could be London I suppose. But I'd need a control group to be certain. Perhaps I should relocate to Leicester for six months? That's a high price to pay for catastrophic fatigue though; I think I'll just make do and mend.
No comments:
Post a Comment