Tired and Emotional

10:30pm - Arrive at front door and fumble in cavernous bag for keys.

10:32pm - Fingers eventually touch keys in bottom of bag. Get arm caught in bag strap during attempt to extract said keys. Drop keys back into bag. Pause to indulge in heavy, shuddering sigh.

10:34pm - Manage to relocate keys and remove them from bag slowly but successfully.

10:35pm - Attempt to focus on keyhole.

10:37pm - Success! Keyhole is now singular, rather than plural. Poke key in general direction of hole.

10:39pm - Get key in hole. Turn key whilst congratulating self for remembering to push door at the same time. Say 'Motor skills are great!' out loud in the street.

10:40pm - Shut and lock door. Stagger purposefully towards the stairs leading to inner front door. Briefly consider removing man-traps disguised as shoes from feet but conclude that as feet are now mere bloody stumps after a day encased in the instruments of torture, a few stairs aren't going to make much more difference.

10:42pm - Trip up the stairs, land on one knee and fling handbag high and long, carpet-bombing the landing with the contents.

10:43pm - Remove shoes and hurl them up onto the landing in a fit of pique. Switch light on to prevent further accidents.

10:44pm - Scrabble about on hands and knees gathering up the scatter-gunned contents of handbag. Do final bleary-eyed check of carpet. Hope I haven't left a tampon lying sweetly in front of neighbour's door.

10:45pm - Enter flat being really, really quiet.

10:46pm - Flatmate is still awake so need for quiet is negated. Hurrah! Happily slam door and fling down bag and shoes, calling a cheery greeting to flatmate.

10:48pm - Flatmate joins me in the kitchen and observes me gazing unseeingly into the depths of our fridge whilst using the open door to prop self up. Flatmate proffers the suggestion that I may be a tad inebriated. I cannot deny this. Mainly because I can't speak properly.

10:50pm - Flatmate gently eases me out of the fridge, extracts a can of Coke and leaves me to fend for self.

10:52pm - Extreme excitment! Have found a bag of microwaveable egg fried rice! Yumorama! Rip top off (of bag not self) and slam microwave door with a flourish. Slamming doors is fun.

10:53pm - Rice is taking far too long to cook and am starving so root about in the fridge again. Find cheddar.

10:54pm - Due to my inability to wrap food properly, the outside of the cheese has the texture of heel-skin. Find knife and risk life by hacking away at the manky bits to reveal the glossy yellow cow-joy underneath.

10:55pm - Microwave pings. Remove bag of rice, probably burning hand on steam but will worry about that tomorrow when can actually feel it. Bag apparently needs to stand to cool. Emit derisive snort at Uncle Ben's ludicrous and extreme health and safety procedures. Shovel cheddar into mouth to appease the beast which appears to have taken up residence in stomach. A thought swims lazily through the bath of wine in my cranium and presents itself for inspection. It is this: Hmmm, cheese before bedtime. I wonder if I'll have a nightmare.

10:57pm - Empty rice into bowl. It looks dry. Cover rice in dark soy sauce. It looks brown.

10:59pm - Eat rice while attempting conversation with flatmate. Make a profound statement regarding piece of political news on the telly. Flatmate nods and smiles at me, I can tell she's impressed. Can't remember what statement was though.

11:05pm - Flatmate goes to bed. I dump bowl and associated equipment into the sink. I don't remember why I needed the round pizza slice-roller thingy but it's covered in cheddar so was clearly useful.

11:06pm - Quickly pop to bathroom to remove make up and clean teeth.

11:12pm - Realize have been staring at self in mirror for over 5 minutes.

11:13pm - Make up has turned to scrambled egg on face. Scrape it off using tea-tree infused wipe. Get tea-tree infusion in eyes and pause to stamp foot in pain. Finish removing make up whist squinting, and clean teeth.

11:15pm - Remove clothing and leave scattered across bedroom floor. Climb into bed.

11:16pm - Oblivion

05:10am - Eyes fly open. Horror noises/visions immediately cease and realise have been in the grip of terrifyingly chilling nightmare.

05:12am - Finally get up the courage to sneak an arm out from under the duvet and switch on light.

05:13am - Am so spooked I can't actually move. As am contemplating whether crazed humanoid beings with red eyes and gigantic mouths protruding shining white pointed teeth, riding quad bikes round a cul-de-sac in the dark might actually exist, my hangover kicks in.

05:14am - Ow.

05:15am - Reach bravely for glass and drink water. Paracetamol are on dressing table but cannot possibly leave protective cover of bed in order to retrieve them. Big-toothed-suburban-quad-bikers might be hiding under bed.

05:16am - Resolve to lie awake with light on until time to get up. Ponder the situation I find myself in. Did I have a nightmare because I ate cheese before bedtime, or did I have a nightmare because I told myself I probably would have a nightmare because I ate cheese before bedtime? Were the old wives right or am I in possesion of a brain that is ridiculously open to suggestion? Decide never to attend end-of-the-pier type hypnotism show in case end up shouting 'Testicles' every time someone says hello to me for the rest of my life.

08:30am - Wonder whether actually am on the tube or whether in fact this is just one long, elaborate, lucid dream. Bump hand with rice-steam burn against some bloke's record bag and realise that I am very much awake. I have mixed feelings about this.