Who needs sleep?

Mostly not having any form of water supply is annoying, running water is a good thing to have. I believe I have authority to say this having spent a lot of time over the last year without water to drink or keep clean with. Having to walk for a mile or so to get it and then only bringing back a few litres at a time is very annoying, especially if such activity coincides with a massive hangover. There are some advantages about not living close to a water source, for one thing I have got very good at conserving water and should I live in a house again, when, when I live in a house again, I imagine I will have very low water bills. A much more immediate advantage of being far from a water source when living outside is that mosquitoes tend not to travel more than 200 meters from water, or so I was led to believe. The mosquitoes that were buzzing around my head at four o’clock this morning obviously had not been led to believe any such thing. I was far too tired, warm and comfortable to get up, dig out my insect repellent, smother myself in it and go back to bed. Instead I contented my self with listening to their incessant whine with increasing frustration only punctuated by occasionally slapping myself in the face in the vain hope of squashing one of the blighters. Eventually it occurred to me that the best thing to do would be to just let them feed and worry about the bites later.

It is now later, with retrospect it would have been better to get up and get busy with the repellent. It would have been a good idea to stay up, that way I could have caught an earlier bus, not that there was any particular need to get to work early today but at least I would not have had to sit behind that minging couple with the combined IQ of half a jelly fish who took great delight in talking loudly about their sex life whilst I was trying to read. It wasn’t so bad, after half an hour a seat became free further down the bus I found myself settling in to have the phone conversation of the slack jawed idiot behind me was having inflicted on me. I was hugely tempted to punch him but, being English, contented myself with sighing loudly and sharing disapproving glances with the lady across the aisle. Why is it that people feel the need to talk on their phones all the time on the bus? What is wrong with people? Are they afraid of their own thoughts, are they that insecure that they have to have loud phone calls with plenty of banter in the hope that all around people will think they are popular?

I find I think a lot more clearly when I haven’t had much sleep and I don’t find myself having to be concerned with such things as tolerance.