Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Bear with me


There must be a point in the lives of people who go mad, when they know, that they've just gone mad. The transition I'd say is fairly swift. One minute it's intelligent conversation, and the next, it's shoes in the fridge. I don't buy this gradual lose of senses and sanity lark. If you wake up one day and start telling your dog to 'put some lipstick on', you're mad. You're not going mad. You're not stood at the peak of a slippery slope, considering a life of craziness. You're already gone.

Last night, I lay in my bed (a weird 3/4 size bed, that I jokingly refer to as a tall Childs bed when I have visitors, such as the NTL man) I sat and looked at the ceiling for about 3 hours. As I lay there, a symphony of annoying noises filled the room. Tap tap taps, rattles, smashes and dull thuds, all apparently coming from just above my ceiling, or roof if you will. Now, I'll be first to admit that my flat is unlikely to be getting it's Quality Built Home certificate anytime soon. The fact that when you flick the hall light switch a tap starts running is bad enough, so I've come accustomed to it's quirks. If it's windy, it tends to sway slightly and a slightly aggressive slam of the door can occasionally result in the collapse of the gable wall. All ok with me, and manageable.

Lat night however, it all went a little crazy. The thuds and bumps on the roof intensified until I was pretty sure that whatever was up there was on the verge of coming through the ceiling, and onto my toned, bronzed naked body, as I lay, Godlike in my half adult sized bed. It honestly sounded like someone on the roof.


However, let's go back to the start of this post and particularly the madness bit. At exactly 01.38am I officially went mad. I became convinced that a bear was on my roof. Each noise, was his heavy paw, ripping up roof slates. Each Tap Tap Tap was him tapping his little bears hammer at the beams on the ceiling. Each ROAR!! was his ROAR!! as he made his way across the top of the house to eat me, in my slightly less than average sized bed.. *(although it could of been passing traffic). It was terrifying. For a while. Then, I became quite content. Sure, I still had the image of a blood thirsty bear, leaping at me from the top of my wardrobe, but it didn't matter.


I was now officially crazy, and safe in that knowledge I went straight to sleep, in my little strange sized bed

8 comments:

Rusticissimus maximus said...

My God, I accepted my madness YEARS ago. Funnily enough, it also involved animals flying out of a wardrobe. In my case I was convinced that the shark from Jaws was going to simply fall out of the wardrobe and land mouth first on top of me in bed and just bite me in half. I was 11.

conortje said...

acceptance of insanity does bring rich comforts indeed... I'd probably have thought it was a ghost myself and tried a spot of exorcism.

National Disgrace said...

Rustucissimus, a timely mention of Jaws. May he Rest in Peace

National Disgrace said...

I did do a little impromtu exorcising.. I had toyed with the idea of googling 'housewives guide to do-it-yourself exorcisms', but I had no lemons and all these quick and easy guides involve lemons..

Rusticissimus maximus said...

I know, I know. I could have been mean and lied and said I was afraid of Roy Schneider falling out of the wardrobe but no...not even I'm that mean.

National Disgrace said...

Hey, I could of done with him last night..

OneForTheRoad said...

Last night I had to put my alarm clock out in the hallway press because the ticking as driving me insane.

Needless to say I didn't wake up on time this morning.

National Disgrace said...

You missed nothing man..