Tuesday, August 25, 2015

August 25. Day 237. While you were sleeping

It has been suggested to me, by my mother of all people, that I might like to enter politics. Seriously? I don't hate my family that much. But there's more before we even get to the small matter of policy and my inability to not to call out hypocrisy when I see it. Funnily enough, a really good reason not to enter politics is my deep and emotional attachment to sleep.Politicians seem to wear their ability to survive on 1.7 hours sleep a night like a badge of honour. I see no honour in that at all. I celebrate the nap like a lottery win. But of late, sleep has been hard to come by and I feel like I am operating in a deep fog. The outline of how things are meant to be is clear but the details are very, very fuzzy generally worse in the morning and clearing as the day progresses, a bit like Brisbane today. Thing is, the fog engulfs you like a big wet blanket and when that happens I'm just as likely to say or do all sorts of weird stuff. So a career in politics? Let me sleep on that .....

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