There is a cool change on it’s way, but after our hottest night in 45 years, it’s still very hot and yucky outside and I am well and truly over it. We made a quick trip to Knifepoint this morning for a couple of last minute presents for people The Mavis insists I MUST have gifts for and it was horrible.
I’m not coping with the heat well at all. Or perhaps I should say that I am coping as long as I can remain largely motionless in reasonable proximity to the airconditioner. As soon as I need to move a bit or go away from the refrigerated air I am instantly tired, sweaty and irritable.
And I want to sleep. A lot. I’m reluctant to have too many naps during the day because that leads to not sleeping at night. Once I do go to bed I’m in no hurry at all to get up again. I seem to need anywhere from 8 to 10 hours sleep at night at the moment and I’m largely useless with any less.
When I woke to find Finn up at 5am today I entertained the thought of waking Mark so that he could deal with the Foozle and I could stay in bed, but that seemed unfair, given that Mark is generally up first these days. And, indeed, he did end up getting up at 6.30 when Finn came in to tell us about the ‘big mess’ he’d made. By the time I peeled myself off the mattress at 9am Mark had fed, clothed and despatched the boy to childcare, fed/released the critters and done some tidying in the loungeroom. The best I could manage was to peer around me blearily.
I don’t think there is anything wrong with me other than the combination of heat and pregnancy, but it is frustrating because it shortens my days. I miss the days when I could go to bed late and rise early all bright eyed and bushy tailed. At least, I’m sure there were days like that - they can’t be completely a figment of my imagination…