I reckon we've all been there at one time or another! I'm just glad that my working days are behind me . . . Stumped.
TheInsomniacs’ Diary
I go to bed at midnight on the button,
Prepared to get my head down pretty quick,
At
two-o-clock I’m still awake and flustered,
By
three I’ve grown so angry I feel sick.
I pace the bedroom floor to still my heart-rate,
And check the clock to see it’s almost
four,
Come
five-o-clock I feel I’ve really had it,
At
six-o-clock I’m feeling really sore.
It’s nearly time for work and I’m exhausted,
Come
seven-o-clock it’s time for my alarm,
The buzzer sounds to emphasise my quandary,
I jump back into bed where it’s still warm.
At
eight-o-clock the phone rings to alert me,
And my boss snarls in my lughole: ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m afraid I’ve overslept,’ I answer meekly,
‘Well get down here for
nine or you are through.’
Come
ten-o-clock I’m nodding at my station,
My computer busy logging all missed calls,
And
eleven finds me snoring in the staff-room,
Where the gaffer really has me by the balls.
So
mid-day sees my exit from employment,
And with cards in hand I make my weary way,
Blaming sleepless nights for cocking up my prospects,
As snoozing on the job will never pay.
End