morning head: Sunday, 12th July, 2015

There’s a classic co-sleeping position called The Doghouse. It doesn’t take much imagination to work it out. Mum has her usual side of the bed, the kid has the entire rest of the bed, and Dad can curl up wherever the fuck he likes, as long as it’s not on the bed.

It started innocently enough. The child was sick, not sleeping much at all, and I took up residence for a few days in the spare room. It was to everyone’s benefit. There is next to no possibility of me being an adequate parent human being if I don’t get a decent sleep. It’s not selfish, it’s simple fact.

More simple facts:

  • I am largely incapable of going to bed at 8pm.
  • A decent sleep is approximately 8 hours long.
  • I get approximately 8 hours of sleep approximately once a week.
  • To get up in the morning and get some work done before I’m on duty currently requires at least four alarms, and twenty minutes of staring at the blue-light dispensing screen of my phone, groaning while it banishes the last traces of melatonin from my head.
  • This is not a classic co-sleeping position.

Thus, two months later, I am still in The Doghouse.

Morning, pooches.