Bleeding Fingers

Do you ever have in impending sense of doom?

I have it often, and I have it right now. It’s 5am, and just like I promised, I have been getting up each morning to blog and to write. The problem with getting up earlier than usual with any intended task beyond a shuffle to the coffee machine is that my brain doesn’t seem to rest properly. It appears that because I haven’t gotten all of my thoughts out of my head before going to bed, they circle and swirl around all night, until I can stand it no more and have to get up.

Unfortunately they don’t just keep to themselves either. Just as I suspected, with my ideas of cells and interconnections yesterday, they weave and thread and tighten themselves into little knots, trying to connect with one another, and making up new patterns where ever they can. So my sleep is fitful and plagued by dreams of exams that I haven’t studied for, and contact lenses that won’t fit into my eyes properly.

I only have a small brain, and despite my claims to the contrary, I can really only concentrate on one thing at a time. That is the reason why people often assume I’m very organised, because to exist in this world I find I have to get one task completed before I can start on another. The passport applications must be handed in before I can start on my CPD hours. CPD must be ticked off before I can do the Christmas shopping. Shopping must be done and wrapped before I can start my BAS. And on and on and on it goes, seemingly forever.

The blog used to be another of those tasks, something to be done to relax and calm my mind of an evening. The 5am Club rescheduled that, and now I am adrift, not really knowing what to do before bedtime, with one part of me (which, as the hours tick over becomes all of me) fiddling away at the topic for the day.

It’s bloody exhausting.

A 5am friend told me to give it a go for a few weeks to get into the swing. She said it will get easier. I hope so, because today I have slightly numb fingers, because I thought it would be a good idea to learn the guitar instead of writing last night. I kind of leant the chords to ‘Hound Dog’ (The first song I could find an easy YouTube on that didn’t contain lots of music words I don’t understand, like tabs and bars.) but of course only I know it’s Hound Dog, the chord changes are too slow for other humans to recognise.

So now I must away, armed with my new understanding of Bryan Adams from “Summer of ’69”. I didn’t play it ’til my fingers bled, but they do feel like they’ve been worn down a bit.


Tell me 5am-ers, how do you turn off your brains?

Can you play guitar? How HARD is it???



…From The Ashers