Waking to Roadkill in your Bed
Last night was, as I have said, Hotter than July. I didn’t sleep too well. The Rudi Dog has the sense to stay downstairs in this heat, but as the night and early morning wear on he cannot help but come and lie on my legs, pinning me to the bed and adding to heat generation in the bedrooom for which I am sure there is a mathematical equation that could help run the National Grid in kilojoules. Or one of those airplanes that fly on solar powerered batteries – in the dark. I’m not going on one of those ever, but I might consider a two-seater kept aloft by the heat generated by a lurcher.
Anyway, there I was, dog on the leggage and so in comes the cat. Another furry hot animal trying to find a space. The cat though is so infrequent a visitor that I felt honoured to be overheated yet further by her Imperial Presence. When I mentioned the overnight overcrowded hot furry animal situation to the Guv’nor he took it to mean that I was referring (refurring?) to him as a furry hot animal. I was not.
So there was no reason for his first words this morning, other than it being sad but true, which were:
You look like you’ve been run over!
Which he later clarified over a pint:
Why did you look so creased? You were sleeping on the mattress, not underneath it. Oh and you looked in need of an emergency dose of Botox.
Maybe I should skip the eye-cream and invest in a Hoffman Press.
Who said romance was dead?
Anyone for Botox?
Posted on July 11, 2010, in Art, Cats, Dogs and tagged Botox, Roadkill, Romance, Sharpei. Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.
On wishes and horses 
Sleeping was next to impossible on our 40º holiday, so on the last day AMB and I decided to find a solution. She took our topsheets and put them in the deepfreeze as we headed out for our last supper in the airless town. Upon returning, said sheet was thrown over me and was promptly up to the outside temperature of 36º (who said the temperature dropped at night?). I also pointed out that the plan was doomed to failure because it was too damn hot and airless to even have a light sheet over yourself. So, me being me, I resorted to what some might call extreme measures.
I’m writing them here to share them with you, because my method only went and bloody worked. And here it is:
A wet t-shirt.
Soak your t-shirt in cold water, wring it out, and then brace yourself and go against everything you believe in that is good and proper and feels right and in line with your upbringing, and put it on. It feels horrid – until you lie down. You are then in heaven. The t-shirt doesn’t really dry until just before you wake up, and you only wake up a couple of times in the night and think ‘ugh, shit, I’m wearing a wet t-shirt’, which to me is preferable to the countless hours spent flailing your arms around and sighing and wailing as you drip with sweat and get angry because you just can’t cool down.
So try it some time. I even converted AMB last night. I promise it works.
Oh, and on the subject of waking up to roadkill in your bed, it’s not as bad as AMB’s first words to me this morning at about 5am (in one of the waking ‘ugh, I’m wearing a wet t-shirt moments):
Your hair makes you look like Jedward.
I guess you could say that Janine/Justine has got her revenge – on the wrong person. I’m never going for a holiday haircut that close to my holiday ever again.
Oh WBWC that may be a worse diss than roadkill.
But then honesty is always good, isn’t it?
Damn that Janine. I had a great cut from Emma the other day. I went in on spec, told them I had already washed my hair that morning and she cut it dry in about 20 minutes – fabulous dahling x
I’m only sorry that it’s not roasting tonight so I can try the wet t shirt. My problem is horribly hot feet in bed so perhaps I could try a small wet towel over them – wet socks in bed would be a step to far.
As for facial creases/botox – you could cut a fringe to hide the creasage. You might also have the added benefit of any upward fringe to warrant a Jedward comment also.
I am not sorry it’s not roasting, it’s been really hard to sleep properly.
Such a pity the more elegant solution of a frozen sheet was ineffectual.
Do you think being called roadkill is an insult, or a term of endearment! I am pretty sure being called Jedward ticks both boxes nicely.
Did anyone mention wet t-shirt? 😉