Home alone

As I briefly mentioned in my last post (that would be the one that a grand total of two people read. Just sayin’…), Jan is away this weekend with his choir. So on  Friday I spent the night alone in the flat for the first time. I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to get an early night for a change. Yes, on a Friday of all days. I have to be on a train at 8am on Saturdays to go to my typing course (only one more to go though!) and I thought I could turn up feeling refreshed for once.  So by 10pm I was in bed, with my book. At 10:30 I put the book down, turned out the light and snuggled down to sleep. It didn’t work too well. Every time I heard a noise my eyes flew open. Was that creaking floorboard in the flat above or coming from the next room? Did I just hear a door open? What was that noise? I have no idea what was wrong with me. Usually I don’t even notice those noises. And after years of spending nights if not all alone then with only my little brother (3 years old at the time) for company  in various places, falling asleep in an empty house (or flat in this case) has never bothered me before. Obviously I’m turing into a scaredy cat in my old age…
Thankfully I did manage to sleep last night. At least after I’d spent half an hour chasing a bluebottle around the room because hearing it buzz past my ear every two minutes was unbelievably annoying. Couldn’t whoever invented bluebottle at least have made them silent?! Aargh!