Arrived at work this Monday morning around 8.50am to be greeted by this:

"What's the matter, couldn't sleep?"

Actually I had a fab sleep on Sunday night, and would have stayed in bed longer had it not been for baby boy having woken. There was the customary game of I'm-really-asleep-me when we heard him through the miracles of the monitor on the bedside table. I cracked first: well, it was my turn. Ah, nothing beats the life-affirming odour of the 7am nappy change! Lenor and springtime meadows don't come to mind.

I'm no better than average, if that, at getting up of a morning - after all, with a crying infant in the next room, it's more a case of having to - but I do have the knack of going to bed late and getting away with it, most of the time.

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I'm tired and I
I want to go to bed
— The Smiths: Asleep

Perhaps I started honing this skill when I got into films some years back. Often as not, because these critically acclaimed works might be subtitled or black-and-white or over two hours long or all of these, it'd be just me on the couch. And I wouldn't hit the "play" button until I was the only one awake in the house, which usually meant that it was already gone 10pm. Which in turn meant that the credits wouldn't roll until, say, 1am. Then off to work the next day.

Next, something dreadful happened: internet access from home. What with the kids and everything else, quality time kicked in as soon as the washing-up was done, around 10.30pm. Fire up the modem, connecting at 46667 bps, and off to read the web-based email. Might as well check out a few favourites on the web before signing off. Next thing you know, it's three hours later.

Can't say I'm particularly proud of my ability to survive on not much shut-eye. Not big and none-too clever, and even I need to recharge occasionally. Middle of last week, having not crawled under the covers until gone 1.30am on Monday and Tuesday, I went for an early night on Wednesday, lights out by 11pm. Woke up Thursday morning feeling lousy. As Kurt Vonnegut would say, so it goes.

If You Take Away With You Nothing Else
One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, zzz:

• Maggie Thatcher needed minimal sleep while in office; look at her now
• it's 11:46pm now and I've just made myself a cup of tea
• OK, upload this to the web, then quickly check for any new mail...

Be seeing you!

Ed