Sunday, 28 February 2016

Sleeping With Your Dreams



Sleeping with your Dreams ©
By Michael Casey

Sleep is good, its great even, especially if you’ve missed it, or not had good sleep in a while. Where does it all begin?  It begins as a child when we cuddle up with mum or dad and fall asleep on them, we don’t want to go to bed or we’ll miss something that Uncle Johnny from London might say. So we beg to stay up a while longer before we fall asleep and have to be carried upstairs to bed.

Years later we’ve inherited an old Bush radio and we are listening to the Book at Bedtime, it’s the Ghost and Mrs Muir, so we force ourselves to stay awake while the news and  Douglas Stewart Reporting is on, then we can hear the rest of the story. Only we fall asleep and you have to rely on your brother to explain what happened. That radio was my university for 20 years, BBC Radio 4, for a few years when I shared a bed with my brother listening to the radio and the Book at Bedtime was a night-time ritual before we went to sleep.

As you grow older your bedtime is one of choice, you chose for yourself, when you go to bed, however school and work then have a major influence on your sleeping patterns. Imagination also has an effect on your sleep, are you a light sleeper or a heavy one, and do you dream? I’m told I once sat bolt upright in my bed and shouted “Launch the Lifeboats” before falling back down and resuming my snoring deep sleep.

As a shift worker my sleep and my body has been ruined by the need to sleep during the day. I did 14 years of night shifts. 3 days 3 nights 3 off, 3 evenings 3 nights 3 off, 4 on 4 off were amongst the shift patterns I worked. 12 hour shifts too, so that all you wanted was to crawl into bed. When I was still at home my mum would give me breakfast before I’d go to sleep.

It takes a while to get used to daytime sleeping, and waking at 5pm and not knowing what day of the week it is. You have to spend a few minutes processing the fact that it was light when you went to bed and now it’s dark when you get up, everything is reversed. You also feel so tired all of the time, it’s not nature it’s not natural. When the days off come then you have to switch back to normal sleeping times, constant switching back and forth IS bad for your biology. I’m sure my own has been ruined by the years of high switching night shift patterns.

With all this going on you really appreciate your sleep, and you will spend good money on a mattress, I think I spent 200quid 20 years ago for a really good mattress, which is like 600 quid in today’s money. I’ve just bought a new mattress in fact from www.beds.co.uk  as I deserved it. A side effect of my heart bypass surgery is the fact that I’m still restricted as what positions I can sleep in, so I need a really good mattress to support my bulk.

With the mattress you need sheets and pillows, not to mention duvets. Only quality will do, especially if you are married as threadbare bed-ware does not impress the girls. You need soft sheets for the hard battles, to quote an ancient Peter Sellars’ film title. If you are comfy you will sleep soundly and be full of vim in the morning.

The worst shift pattern I ever did involved a 2.30am finish, start at 6pm and finish at 2.30am. I’d walk from the council house to the taxi stand and awaken my driver who then took me home. I’d have a snack before going to bed at about 4 am. There was one side effect of this crazy shift pattern. My wife conceived and we had our first daughter.

Going to bed at 4am really threw my body I slept for a very long time before dashing out at 5pm to catch the bus to work. I was offered a renewal of that contract but I decided my days of night shift working should finish. The night shifts had the last laugh though, because no matter what time I went to bed my body would not let me sleep till 4am, and it took 3 months before my body allowed me to go to sleep naturally.

So all kinds of everything have been my working hours and my bedtime has varied so much, so I really appreciate my Egyptian cotton sheets and my duck pillows, all I need is for my scars to heal so I can move freely instead of gingerly.
    


Friday, 26 February 2016

Its all in the stars a story from 1998



                       It’s All In The Stars 2016 ©

                         
                              By


                         Michael  Casey



          Louise  just  loved  to  read her stars  in  the  papers,  but

gradually  she  became disillusioned,  they were  too  inaccurate,  too
 
general,  she wanted more detail,  a personal touch, she wanted to know
 
how her life would be.  Not "you'll have a happy day today,  a  surprize
 
could be on its way." She wanted more, so she went to see a clairvoyant,

the  clairvoyant   was a gypsie who had pitched her caravan  in  the  Bull
 
Ring.  Louise happened to be there buying new knickers for herself outside
 
Saint  Martins  church when she spotted the sign saying "fortunes  told,
 
cheap prices, under a fiver to know your future. "
 
           So grasping her knickers in the carrier  she climbed  the  four
 
steps into the caravan.  The fortune teller looked like a rugby player in
 
drag,  but that’s normal for fortune tellers,  so Louise wasn't afraid.
 
She  had  30  mins before she had to get back to  Stats  and  some  report
 
writing  for  Derek  the boss.  The bells of  Saint  Martin  peeled,  a
 
lunchtime service was about to begin, as for Louise she held her breath,
 
what would the future bring ?

       Michael also wanted to know the future.  He read his stars avidly
 
in the papers,  he'd buy his shopping in Safeways, then once through the
 
checkout he'd read his stars in all the newspapers, before discarding the
 
papers  and leaving with just his shopping,  the papers in a heap at  his
 
feet. He always hoped the stars would tell him when he'd meet the love of
 
his life,  what he failed to notice was that while he had his head in the
 
newspaper,  pretty  women were standing right next to him  browsing  the
 
womens magazines. If only he looked up from the stars. 
 
           Fate would bring these two together, in fact they lived in the
 
same street, but their paths had never crossed, Michael lived at number
 
19  and Louise lived in number 25.  Michael had been a computer operator
 
for 20 years but when the job ended he took the first job that came along
 
, so now he was a security guard, not one of those thick ones in uniforms
 
,  no he was a guard in the new Travel lodge hotel on Broad street,  the
 
biggest hotel in the city.  He wore a suit and had a nice badge with  his
 
name  on  it,  and he had a nice slim radio.  So he was an  upper  class
 
security guard.  It was the perfect job for him because he liked  meeting
 
people and having a gossip.

           The fortune teller had told Louise,  that she'd meet  somebody
 
strong  and  reliable,  though perhaps a little  boring,  things  would
 
happen suddenly and she'd be swept off her feet.  Louise liked strong men
 
why  she'd  been to see the Chippendales four times,  so  she  smiled  to
 
herself as she left the caravan,  clutching her carrier of knickers.  The
 
months  passed  and still Louise hadn't found her Mr Reliable,  she  got
 
offers  of course,  she enjoyed strutting her stuff in pubs all over  the
 
Black Country her and her friend Mary.  Only the offers were always  from
 
men just past their sell  by date, men who would buy you a pint and a bag
 
of  chips and then want to feel more than your hips as she danced  to  70s
 
Glamrock.  So Louise said "Sod It !", as she slapped another man across
 
the face.  Why couldn't men be Gay without being Gay,  you know Gay  men
 
treated you like a lady and didn't grope. Just why couldn't one like that
 
turn up.
 
         Michael finished another 12 hour shift and was wandering  around
 
  his  flat  naked,  scratching his bum and drinking another 2  litres  of
 
  coca cola.  He switched the telly on and surfed teletext, his HiFi was
 
  on too playing Genesis,  he always read the news on all channels before
  
reading his stars on ITV channel 4, channel 5 and Sky. His whole working
 
life involved working odd hours with even odder people, so he'd never met
 
anybody  who would put up with his lifestyle. Now 40 was on the horizon,
 
was  he  clutching at straws hoping against hope by reading  his  stars  to
 
cheer himself up. Jo from the kitchen had given him a Xmas card saying "I
 
hope  the  girl of your dreams find you in 98 ",  and the year  was  half
 
over. Michael sighed, at least he could have a quiet cry while he watched
 
weepies  on  Sky and the other channels.  Little Women  was  perhaps  his
 
favourite film,  the ending where the Professor says he has empty hands
 
& he has nothing to give,  but the girl gave him her hands and said "now
 
they are full".  His own father had nothing when he met his mom, yet she
 
married him, and yet he married her and her false teeth,  and they went
 
on to have six children.  So Michael watched and wept, at least there
 
was refuge and solace in prayer, he had taken up regular prayer when he'd
 

read about Padre PIO, and when  his mother died, and to his surprize  his  faith  got
 
stronger.  But still he longed for company, to talk with, to laugh with, 

to cry with,  and to wake up with. So he prayed and read his stars in
 
equal doses.
 
        Louise slammed the door of her flat, and rearranged her  blouse,

that bastard had more hands than an octopus, he'd left his thumb print on
 
her boob too,  and the bra strap was broken too. She have to go down the
 
Bull Ring on Monday and get herself a new red bra, and new red  knickers
 
too, it was a matching set after all. She flicked on the telly, Central
 
Weekend was still on, Russell Grant was on,  so she didn't switch off.
 
He was saying that a proper reading involved study.  Louise examined her
 
bruised boob as he talked,  still listening she practised her  undressing
 
technique,  it'd been in Mary's Cosmo three months before, so she'd been
 
practicing it. Once she met a Gay man who wasn't Gay, he'd have the full
 
benefit of it,  it was all about pleasing him,  so to please yourself,
 
that's how Cosmo explained it.  So there she was naked before her telly
 
with just Russell Grant smiling at her,  "And it’s about  examining  your
 
potential and optimizing your best  bits ",  Louise was examining her  boob
 
again,  and her bum, she found another bruise there. So it was standing
 
naked before Russell Grant and a studio audience that she decided to do it
 
herself, she'd go to the library and dig out some books. She'd form her
 
own future, she'd caste her own fortune.

          Michael dried the tears from his eyes, and switched the tv off,

scratched  his bum,  then got into bed.  If only a millionairess would
 
stop at the hotel and fall in love with him,  well it  happened  in films

didn't it?  His stars had been contradictory as usual, so  he  just
 
believed the nice ones. Louise had  switched off the telly when she'd
 
glanced out of her window,  only to see a naked man get into bed. Michael
 
was afraid of the dark you see,  so he always left a chink in his curtain
 
and Louise by chance or was it fate ? She had seen him, he was fat and
 
very hairy, but at least he had a big chest, she just loved men with big
 
chests. So sniggering Louise headed for her own bed.

          The following Monday Louise dashed up to the Library and got as
 
many do it yourself Horoscopes books as she could find.  There were five
 
in fact. She'd read them all then photocopy the best bits on the  works
 
photocopier.  No more newspapers for her, she'd do it herself, she had
 
five minutes left of her lunch hour so she went and got a new matching bra
 
and knickers from the Bull Ring, and some grapes too,  she just  loved
 
grapes. Somebody was selling a telescope too, so on impulse she bought
 
that as well, it was only a fiver. She be able to gaze up at the stars.

          Michael had a nice day at the hotel, people seemed to like him,

well in five minute doses that is, a millionairess did stop at the hotel,

only she was a bitch, who knew she was rich and beautiful and intelligent
 
and she  wanted the whole world to know it.  If only she had a dose  of
 
humility that'd change her thought Michael, would  be perfect for this rich millionairess,

  a dose of humility was  a good  thing, but Michael smiled and carried all her shopping
 
and put it into a waiting taxi,  as she swore at him for not being  quick
 
enough. But his stars had said "You will be mixing with the  rich  and
 
famous", and so he was, by carrying her bags. 
 
 
             Louise dashed home with her carrier full of library books,
 
she'd know her future tonight, she was a bit impetuous at times, so she'd
 
work out her future tonight.  She saw the light go on in Michael's flat,
 
and  she did have a telescope,  so she gave into temptation and spied  on
 
him. e was nice,very nice, then she nearly dropped the telescope, he
 
had a horrid birthmark on his left shoulder, a brown stain all covered in
 
hair. He was a bit like the elephant man, Louise laughed, and then went
 
back to  her  books.  As for Michael he put the Disney channel on and
 
watched Beauty and the Beast,  he could empathise with the Beast,  he'd
 
been called a beast himself because of his birthmark,  girls had run away
 
from him because of it. They could put up with him being fat, but not the
 
birthmark as well, that was too much. So Michael watched Beauty and the
 
Beast and cried and cried, some say a man should not cry, but  Michael
 
knew that was bollocks, it was good to be in touch with your emotions, a
 
good cry  cleanses  then system. Recently he'd  started  listening  to
 
Classic FM,  cos one of the cleaners had told him about it, and that made
 
him cry too, how could just a few violins and so forth touch your soul in
 
seconds. But it was nice, besides they'd never be anybody there to see
 
him cry, so he could be true to his soul, and cry and cry.
 


         Louise looked up from her books, she'd spent five hours reading
 
the future was hers,  she picked up the telescope again,  this time  to
 
look for Uranus, but the sky had clouded over. So she watched Michael's
 
bum as he got into bed.  Louise spent weeks reading and watching naked Michael

she even went  to West Bromwich library in search of books, she was confident,

she knew she’d always be ok for money,  and that was all that mattered as far as

she was concerned,  so long as she could pay the bloody mortgage and could  feed
 
her cat Sam.  One night Mary couldn't come on the razzle, strutting her
 
stuff with Louise, and as Louise had a bit of a cold she stayed in  and
 
watched the telly.  Elephant Man was on, the music was good, but Louise
 
hated the black and white,  and was going to switch it off,  but it  was
 
compelling in a horrible sort of way.  As she watched she looked out the
 
window and could see naked Michael, she laughed, then looked back at the
 
Elephant Man, then she laughed "Elephant Man lives over the road, Sam",

then the music touched her, she felt guilty,  a silent tear fell. She
 
couldn't bear her guilt so she got up and switched the telly  off,  she
 
didn't  have a remote control. She put Heart FM on loud to cheer herself
 
up, but her eyes were drawn over the road towards Michael's back, so she
 
picked  up the telescope.  "It's not that bad I suppose, if I were  his
 
girlfriend I'd shave it." Then she dropped the telescope, and  reached
 
for  her chocolate, and soon forgot him, Heart FM was great.

         Hazel had the flu, so would anybody like tickets to see Phantom
 
of The Opera. So as it was free Louise had it, she liked classical music
 
too as well as glam rock, so it would be a night out for her and Mary.

The Phantom was great, a bit like Disney's Beauty and the Beast really or
 
even the  Hunchback Of Notre Dame,  about  love  crossing  insurmountable
 
barriers.  Michael had once said to his mom, that he wasn't good enough
 
for anybody,  and his mother had chided that of course he  was,  Love
 
Conquers All was her message. And so was the message of Phantom. Louise
 
ate her chips on the bench outside the Hippodrome,  her mind troubled,
 
Mary thought  she was a bit quiet.  Louise lied and said she  was  only
 
tired.  But once home she got her telescope out and watched Michael's back
 
as  she played the CD of the show that she'd bought. Guilt  overcame  her
 
and she cried, she cried just like a little girl.

               Now sometimes fate cannot wait no longer it bursts on the
 
scene, it  demands attention.  Louise was returning the books to  the
 
library, she had just bought more knickers from the  Bull Ring. It was

while she was crossing the road at the top of Hill Street that she  nearly
 
walked under a bus, had it not been for a strong hand pulling at her bra
 
strap she would have been dead.  "Pervert" was on her lip, as she fell
 
backwards but the noise and shadow of the bus drown her words.

"I could have been killed," she stuttered, as she got to her feet.

"That's why I grabbed you, your bra strap was what saved you," replied
 
Michael.

Louise looked up to see who had saved her, she looked deep into his eyes
 
,his child like eyes.  She screamed and fainted, he caught her in his
 
strong arms. A full minute later she opened her eyes.

"But it’s  you,  I've never seen you with your clothes  on,  "  stammered
 
Louise.

"Pardon? " replied Michael not knowing her guilt secret.

"You see,  we are neighbours in Miracle Road Qangleton,  "  explained
 
Louise.

"Here's your knickers," replied Michael as he picked up her carrier and
 
it’s spilled contents.

"But, you  saved my life,  " said Louise,  before smothering  him  in
 
kisses, he had saved her life after all.

"Let's go for a coffee in Dunkin Donuts," suggested Michael "you  have
 
had a shock after all.

        And so that was how they finally met, it was all in the stars, I
 
think they went on to have twelve children and lived happily ever after,
 
you get a lot of family allowance with twelve children after all.




 
 
 
  ****************

4 years later i did work in a hotel
 
 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Phoney War

Humour Writing by the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England read in 167 countries so far https://www.amazon.co.uk/Micha...