Spartans do not cure insomnia

Isn't it just awful when you can't sleep? Laying awake for hours, tossing and turning and desperately trying to sleep, as if it's something that you can exert control over. I never normally have to try to sleep. It just happens. Whether it's on a Sunday afternoon in front of the tv or after a long day of work/play, there just seems to be a moment when you nod off and that's it. You're asleep. No trying necessary. So why do I think I can try and sleep? It never, ever works. And the old counting sheep ritual, well, I'd like to meet someone for whom that actually has slumber-inducing effects.

Last night I tried counting Spartans. One Spartan with an unfeasibly toned physique, two Spartans with an unfeasibly toned physique, three Spartans… you get the idea. This unlikely digression from the more traditional sheep was influenced by pre-bedtime viewing. The film 300 to be precise. I'd not seen it before and had been reliably informed (by Mr. C) that it was a homoerotic muscle-fest, starring the delectable Gerard Butler, and the very easy on the eye Dominic West. "Yeah, ok then, let's watch it." Er…  That was mistake number one. I've never seen a film brimming with so much testosterone in all my life. Super-stylised in comic book fashion and incredibly violent (not that you could really expect any less in a retelling of the incredibly bloody Battle of Thermopylae), 300 is most definitely what I would call a Boy Film. Mistake number two, of course, was counting Spartans in my attempt to sleep. Those physiques really were incredibly toned…

I can't even begin to imagine being a chronic insomniac. I expect there's a degree of adjustment made to the lack of sleep, but I'm sure there are people out there who would, through bleary eyes, have no qualms in correcting me. What would you do with all of those extra hours? It would be nice to think that they could be used productively, but surely you'd just be too exhausted to reinvent the wheel or write a classic to rival Dickens?  My default can't-sleep behaviour doesn't usually extend beyond taking the opportunity to read, or pottering about in the kitchen, cleaning.

Neither option struck me as appealing last night. My inability to sleep was lurgy-induced. I've been afflicted (I like that word. It sounds Ye Olde and Important) with a virus that, I have to say, is a resilient little bugger. Ten days in and it's still going strong. The initial sore throat developed into green (yes, green) tonsils, which then became typical cold symptoms, which has now turned into laryngitis. My incessant coughing is driving me to distraction, my throat is incredibly sore once again, and last night I discovered that laying down induced what I can only describe as a drowning sensation. Not pleasant. So after much tossing and turning, and trying to sleep, I gave up and retreated downstairs so as not to disturb Mr. C. Wrapped in blanket (or two - bit nippy last night!) I amused myself by playing Angry Birds on my phone, taking regular doses of cough syrup and comforting myself with the knowledge that as coughing causes the abdominal muscles to contract, if nothing else I may one day have a physique like a Spartan.