Overslept for most of the morning – again. Possibly because I didn’t put the heater on before sleeping, thinking it was getting mild enough not to. I think my body goes into a kind of hibernation mode when it’s cold under the duvet – as if it says to itself, ‘go back to sleep until it’s warmer’.
Regardless, I forget it’s not good enough to just fall asleep. You have to plan your sleep. First alarm set, 2nd alarm set, maybe a post-it note by the bed shouting at me not to go back to bed after I’ve gotten out to turn the alarm off. I need all these things and more.
I’ve heard interviews with people talking about having rewarding jobs. The phrase they use is ‘it’s what gets you out of bed in the morning’.
I think the only time I’ve had that feeling is when I know I’m going on a trip the next day, particularly abroad. That gets me up. Otherwise, well, my college classes are in the evening, which doesn’t help.
I’m actually having special ‘study skills’ sessions about this, aimed purely at people with dyspraxia. In my case, it’s about getting me anchored in my own sense of time, rather than just drifting through the days.
Another modern phrase – often used to describe unemployed young people – is ‘having no stake in society’. I go further than that. I feel like I have no stake in time. But I know I’m best suited to living alone and working alone, so I have to shackle myself with ‘chains of one’s own making’, as Quentin Crisp put it.
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Class tonight was on London Assurance, the Victorian comedy. Then I went straight to the Muswell Hill Odeon to see The Artist. Aside from the novelty of being a silent film in black and white, the plot is so simple that the film should really be a lot more lightweight than it really is. But the charisma of the two leads is mesmerising – you never tire of their faces. And there’s a few scenes which are particularly inventive and unexpected, such as a dream sequence. A perfect film, really.
Cost of cinema ticket: £7.50.
Tags: getting up, the artist
