I didn’t sleep well last night. I am tired and I am getting old.
I guess it happens to us all. I knew I’d reached a certain point in my life the other day – an old episode of ‘The Good Life’ was on and I realised that I’d rather shag Margot than Barbara.
And even at my gentle pace, I seem to have badly hurt my elbow playing tennis. I guess there’s a name for this condition. Whatever. It aches.
But the main thing is that I constantly have to get up during the night to go for a wee wee.
I went to see the the doctor about it. He said something along the lines of ‘Christ, me too! Bloody inconvenient, isn’t it?’ then tested me to make sure I wasn’t diabetic (I’m not). So that didn’t help much, apart from the not being diabetic reassurance – and even that wasn’t much of a step forward, as he was the one that had just mentioned the possibility to me in the first place.
I could try to minimise the problem by taking a bucket to bed with me, or by moving to a house where the bathroom isn’t downstairs and an obstacle course away.
I did think of giving up drinking. But presumably I would then die of thirst.
Or I guess I could buy loads of electrical items and shoes and stuff, then throw them away but keep the little sachets of silica gel that come in the packaging. If I could collect a couple of hundred, I could pack them all into my pants before I go to bed at night then not worry about having to get up at all. In the morning I could put them in the tumble-drier ready for re-use.
That sounds expensive. But I am knackered and will try anything.