Due to an erratic night’s sleep, I awoke this morning staring through bleary eyes, accompanied by a hazy brain fog. My neurological peasouper leading to such marked cognitive disorientation, I experienced an outer body experience.
An episode where I floated in my bedroom, looking down on my 5’ 11” frame. A disturbing event not aided by witnessing just how disgustingly hairy my back was getting; not to mention wondering why I had been wearing a trilby hat in my sleep.
The latter observation evoking thoughts that perhaps I perform a Frank Sinatra tribute act while in a state of overnight unconsciousness… Although, I eventually concluded that was unlikely.
I do know from my partner Sarah that I snore when asleep. A cacophonous snorting which, much to her chagrin, frequently wakes her… Even when she’s sleeping five miles away from me in her Ossett home!
Anyhow, I am unsure why my slumber was so tarnished, but I do know all attempts at mitigating against this disturbed kip proved mostly unsuccessful.
Admittedly, my virtual assistant Alexa did not help. Some of the soundscapes she chose after I requested calming white noise to ease me back to the Land of Nod, having the very opposite of relaxing my soul.
Her initial choice of providing heavy rainfall as a background sound successfully relaxed my mind; although it did make me want to pee. However, five minutes in, things changed cognitively when the audio backdrop changed to the crackling of an ignited firepit.
Don’t get me wrong, I find sitting in front of a wood burning firepit in the garden cathartic; the crackles and spits borne from the burning lumber’s gases soothing. However, when your laid in bed with sounds of a raging fire emanating from the bedroom corner, those serenity inducing qualities significantly diminish.
Sure, I knew the bedroom was not ablaze. However, sporadically checking the fire crackle was emanating from my smart speaker, not an audio consequential of an electrical socket fire, failed to manifest the soul calming aura sought at the time.
Mercifully, like the initial white noise piece, it finished within five minutes, replaced by sounds of crashing of waves. Although the raging sea can be heard angrily colliding with the rocks blocking its path, it was an accompanying vox I found calming.
Additionally, as I am 50+ miles from the sea and reside in a first-floor apartment I bear no angst this crashing ocean was anything other than speaker output. I know you should never say never, but a tsunami of an utterly catastrophous magnitude would have to occur for my bedroom to flood with sea water.
Consequently, this soul easing audio vignette kickstarted the engine of the Land of Nod express. It was not long, though, until this augmented tranquillity took another dip; the culprit being Alexa’s fourth random white noise selection.
These sounds, defiling my discerning lugs, I assumed to be the moans of whales communicating.
However, so audibly tortuous was the noise, it sounded more like the moans of Jacob Marley to Ebeneezer Scrooge while waiting in Purgatory, in 1951’s eponymous movie starring Alistair Sim. A dreadful cacophony of torment from e ghost shackled by chains while awaiting his stark fate.
I am as flawed as the next person, apart from George Traction, but I would like to think GJ Strachan is a generous man. A generosity of spirit and humanity which would negate receiving early morning visits from ethereal forces intent on improving his social skills … As befit old Ebeneezer.
Footnote – George Traction is a Milton Keynes man who is so righteous he has won the UK Least Flawed Man competition for the past three years… Not to be confused with Bernard Trout whose perennial use of woodworm ridden lumber during construction has resulted in him winning UK Least Floored Man for the past three years.
Anyhow, I eventually fell asleep when Marley had stopped his pained oratory. However, upon waking, my disturbed slumber meant I commenced 25th August 2023 with less vigour than usual.
My mood at reveille immediately plummeting upon hearing torrential rainfall. Chuntering disgruntledly to myself, listening to the sound of precipitation hammering the sidewalks I cursed out loud.
Raising the blind, yours truly was shocked at witnessing sunshine enveloping my Wakefield manor. Confused, at the juxtaposition painted by my eyes and ears, it suddenly dawned on me why I was being greeted by conflicting sensory messages… Leading to an exclamation of “Alexa… Shutdown!!”
Incidentally, does anybody want a trilby?
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