New eyeballs are expensive.

I've been quite late getting to bed lately. This is because I'm newly redundant, which means two things:

1. No pressure to get up at a civilised hour (i.e. while the sun is out); and

2. Nothing to occupy my brain for 7.5 hours a day, which means I have more time and mental energy to focus on imagining and worrying about things that would not even register on normal people.

So my bedtime routine usually goes like this:

10:30 p.m. - Look at clock on laptop and resolve to get to bed in an hour. The closing credits of Golden Girls will be my signal. Continue Internetting.

11:29 p.m. - Hear end theme to Golden Girls and realise that an hour has passed...but I'm right in the middle of a forum post/writing experiment/rant/YouTube episode of My Little Pony Tales! Resolve to go to bed when finished doing whatever.

11:47 p.m. - Finished whatever, but look! A troll is getting the smackdown from the mods/I just came up with a bitchin' metaphor/I'm pissed off about the bus strike/There's a link to Strawberry Shortcake Meets the Berrykins! And Toms/Ceci/Stripes/Haylz/Krissi/Fairy Godmom just got on Facebook Chat!

2:04 a.m. - Last available (sober) friend signs off, ostensibly to go to bed like a human being. Turn off computer, reminding self that most of my friends are in bed and therefore unlikely to post anything legendary on Facebook before sunup.

2:05 a.m. - Loo, brush teeth, get drink, plug in BlackBerry, etc.

2:15 a.m. - In bed.

2:30 a.m. - Check Facebook on BlackBerry (conveniently kept on windowsill) because Drunk Wanker is probably still up asking shit like "settle a bet byzzzz was anyone ever actullay charged in the kennedy assasination" and I, being a veritable Hoover Dam of useless information, often have the answers he requests.

2:40 a.m. - Put BlackBerry back on windowsill, close eyes, attempt to sleep.

3:10 a.m. - Still awake because while trying to sleep I started thinking about the episode of All in the Family where Archie goes on a diet for his blood pressure and, through progression of hating myself for being such a big fat lazy stinking hog and remembering that my blood pressure was slightly high when I was a kid, am now worrying that if I eat chips twice in one day my blood pressure will skyrocket higher than any other human's, ever, and my eyeballs will blow up and burst right out of my head in the middle of the night, despite the fact that I eat chips two, three times a week at MOST.

3:25 a.m. - Notice Forrest Gump on television! And it's playing on a Canadian station, so they won't edit out the swears!

4:12 a.m. (approx.) - Fall asleep while watching TV worrying about my mother lambasting me for being a lazy bitch when I don't get up before noon tomorrow.

So I was in between the penultimate and final phases of my bedtime routine last night. Quarter to four in the morning, and on the very PRECIPICE of sleep, when I heard, from the next room, my brother's snoring lapse into a terrifying spate of hacks and gags. It sounded as if he was chucking-up with the intention of turning himself inside out.

Just as I made the decision that yes, I should get the fuck out of bed and go see if he needed an ambulance, the death-sounds subsided and the normal (for him) snoring resumed. I rolled over and attempted sleep again, accustomed to the sinal symphony on the other side of the wall...

...only to be yanked off the ledge AGAIN, several minutes later, by noise from the mouth of hell. This time, however, it was vocal. I couldn't make out the words, but from the tone of his babbling it sounded like he was talking to our cat. This too passed within a few seconds and was replaced with snoring. Once more I attempted sleep, rather cross by now.

I couldn't have been asleep more than two minutes before a familiar yet psychotic-rage-inducing BUZZ pulled me awake for a third fucking time! My mother had, either accidentally or for some stupid reason she later forgot about or abandoned, set her alarm for 4:00 a.m. It was then that I decided that living in this house is equivalent to being on the receiving end of a lobotomy that never, ever ends. Fuck. That. Noise. Until I get work, I will wake up whenever I bloody well please, and Alarm Clock Psycho Harpy can suck 37 dicks.

Either way, I sign up for the gym tomorrow. I'm holding out hope that physical exhaustion will help me sleep and therefore keep civilised hours regardless of my mental energy reserves. Perhaps it will also have a beneficial effect in that I won't feel the need to worry about my blood pressure anymore. Let's hope, anyway. They've not yet invented Blind Mag-style digital eyeballs.