Strangely sleepy

I’ve been back on The Heath. Home now and feeling enervated. Not the best state to be in when I’m going to need to sleep. But ain’t that always the case with the old adrenaline.

A big old group tonight, but not so drunk they weren’t playing. This little old walking tour is joyful in its way. The only issue, as so often, is winding down afterwards.

I’ve had my hot bath. That’s likely got my heart rate down a little. Now it’s the old staple of chamomile tea and then I’ll just lie down, close my eyes and hope for the best.

It’s always such a variety of personalities on the tour. But the thing that binds it is that everybody seems to be there to have uncomplicated fun. We are covering a lot of ground so I’m throwing out energy. But I’m starting to really enjoy myself within this bombastic character I’m making. I’ve given myself license to be pretty broad, and depending on the group I’m dialling up or reining in the sinister. Tonight’s lot got a much jollier version of me than many last week, but I arrived at work in a good mood, and they didn’t seem to be the spook crowd, so we just had fun together.

I’ve had such a lovely relaxing couple of days in the process of saying farewell to Mao. Lou and I really made the most of it and all the noise I was carrying fell away. To be honest I think I’ll probably sleep very well despite my concerns. My body clock has been shifted earlier by synchronising with Lou. I can feel myself just drifting off as I write. All I did was drive back from Brighton and then do a few hours of fun-shouting! Maybe I really AM getting old…

Tomorrow and the rest of the weekend looks to be a bit more work as I’m back to Hampstead again. Believe it or not I forgot the keys to my friend’s place again. Same as last week. I think perhaps a little part of that was on purpose, as it’s really lovely to be home in my own bed with all my strange things around me.

Yeah… This is all I’ve got today. Sleep is climbing up my legs. Here comes Dreamland and I’m not setting an alarm. I’ll be asleep when you read this, probably having more of the wild and crazy dreams that the last full moon seems to have sent my way. Night night.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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