Tag: duvet

7 Reasons Not To Elbow Someone Whilst Sleeping

Last week you found out that my girlfriend and I discuss potatoes in bed, well today you are going to discover that she elbows me in the neck whilst sleeping. But this post is not so much for the benefit of her as it is for everyone. The simple fact is this: elbowing people whilst sleeping is bad. Here’s why:

1. Sides. Like most couples, my girlfriend and I have dedicated sides of the bed. I am on the left with 80% of the duvet, Claire is on the right shivering. Now, if like me you never venture from your side of the bed, it means your fellow sleep partner must be breaking bed protocol if her (or his) elbow is making contact with your neck. In such situations you do have to wonder why you had to nominate sides in the first place.

2. Damage. Of course, before you wonder about why you agreed to nominate sides, you need to inspect your injuries. In my case I had to check I was still breathing. Thankfully I was, but an elbow protruding into my trachea made it much harder than it usually is. Still, I am one of the lucky ones. Other injuries you may suffer from being elbowed in bed include: a black eye, a broken nose, a fat lip, a dislocated jaw and a wobbly tooth. And that’s just on your face. If you sleep upside down it could be a whole lot worse.

3. Reflex. Generally when people feel pain, their first reaction is to react. This probably isn’t news. If you are asleep and someone disturbs you by elbowing you it would be very natural for you to instinctively punch them in the face. Satisfying, yes. Sensible, not really. Especially when you consider that a reflex of being punched in the face is to kick out. You could quite easily end up having a pillow fight. Without the pillows.

4. Retaliation. Maybe you manage to avoid reacting instinctively though. Possibly because you are already awake. You can’t let your partner get away with it! They’ve just whacked you in the face. This is when you start turning to dark places. (Unless you switched the light on to work out what the bloody hell just took your head off.) Thoughts turn to revenge. Should you kick them? Knee them? Pinch them? Poke them? Slap them? Chances are you won’t do any of them, but thanks to your partner you stay awake all night thinking nasty thoughts. Then you’re cranky all day. You snap at people. You argue with people. You put salt in people’s coffee. Then, come 6pm, you have no friends left. And all because the lady ~~loves Milk Tray~~ elbowed you up the nostril.

5. Moving. In something of a design flaw, when someone elbows you whilst they are asleep, they rarely move their arm back to its rightful place. As a result you have to move it for them. Which is not as easy as it sounds. Joints were only designed to move in certain directions and usually the only direction it wants to go is further into your eye socket. Generally speaking, the only solution here is for you to move. Probably downstairs to the sofa bed.

6. Dreams. As I do on most nights, I was dreaming in my sleep. Last night’s adventure was particularly exciting as I was unbeaten on 245 and Shane Watson had just pulled a hamstring. It was a pleasant change to his usual trick where he pulls a hamster from a Tesco carrier bag. So there I was watching Shaun Tait jog in from the Michael Jackson Statue End (we were playing in Fulham) when I lost sight of the ball. Next thing I knew it had smacked me in the throat. Which is when I woke up with a start and realised that not only had I been dreaming, but Claire had been the one to spoil my moment with a viciously placed elbow. Pathetic.*

7. Petty. If you have an issue with someone, elbow them in the face when you are awake. That way they’ll know exactly how you feel. Doing it while you are ‘asleep’ is childish and, as detailed above, helps no one.

*When I did get back to sleep, Janet Street-Porter yorked me first ball. One of us were also naked. That’s the stuff nightmares are made of.

April 6, 2011
7 Reasons That The New Duvet Is Awful

At 7 Reasons (.org) we like to think of ourselves as lifestyle writers; authors of a self-help guide to modern living. But occasionally, something so calamitous occurs in one of our personal lives that we can think of nothing other than that event and are compelled to write about it, even though we’d rather be thinking and writing about something (anything) else. Such an event has occurred. In the past week, my wife purchased a new duvet. It is one of the worst things that could have happened. Here are 7 reasons why.

1. Light. It’s dark under the new duvet. Whether it’s actually dark or not. It’s so dark that the exterior of the duvet could be next to the sun, or next to something as dark as the sun is light (the unsun? The un? ). It wouldn’t matter. Because underneath the duvet, it is always pitch black: Unless I was to take a torch under there. Though possibly even then. There is nothing darker than being under the duvet, except for being inside Piers Morgan’s soul wearing a black hat, a bin liner and a pair of sunglasses. Though how you would find yourself in such a situation, I don’t know. It would be quite unfortunate.

2. Weight. The duvet is heavy. It’s heavier than…well…everything; and it’s definitely the heaviest thing I’ve ever been pinned to a bed by. It’s like an enormous weight is pressing down on me all the time I’m beneath it (which may be slimming, who knows?). When I tried to complain, what I said came out as gibberish because of the heavy weight pressing down on my face. But that didn’t matter, because…

3. Under The Duvet, No One Can Hear You Scream. There is no sound under the duvet. This is bad, as I like to listen to the radio while in bed – it prevents me from thinking, which is what usually gets me into trouble, so it’s quite essential – but the moment I put my head under the duvet, all sound stops. All of it. Which would be handy if I were in a room with James Blunt, but I’m not, I’m trapped in a room with my own thoughts. Which is much like being back in Piers Morgan’s soul again but I can wear what I like and there’s tiramisu.

4. Heat. It’s hot under the duvet. Hotter than anything. I have no idea exactly how many togs the thing contains, but I know this: Togs are hot, and the new duvet has bloody loads of them. I have actually broken into a sweat just by lying under the thing, not moving, in a cold, draughty house in the winter, when the temperature outside was -13. It was then that I decided the remedy to my overheating would be to lift the duvet to let some air underneath.

5. AAaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh!!!!! And that turned out to be a sensation like being punched in the solar-plexus by an angry ‘roid-enhanced snowman. Twice. It turns out that there was at least a thirty degree difference between the temperature in the room and the micro-climate beneath the duvet. Still, at least my screams didn’t wake my wife, as my head was beneath the duvet and her head was above it, so she couldn’t hear them.

6. Time. Under the duvet, you have no inkling of what time it is. None, whatsoever. There’s just no way of telling. I can’t hear the radio, and there’s no way of telling that it’s time to get up (alarms, bin-men, toasters, a hungry cat etc), nor is there any daylight or any climactic indicators (it’s just always the temperature of boiling stuff). I could take a timepiece with me, but who wants to roll over on a clock in the bed, or get the bracelet of their watch caught in their hair and have to cut it loose? I don’t want to make that mistake again, thank you very much. Because doing that for a third time would make me look foolish.

7. Air. It is impossible to breathe under the duvet, which is a shame, as it’s something of a hobby of mine. No air penetrates the dense, heavy material that the duvet is constructed from (some sort of downy molten concrete?) and all air that was originally there is forced out by the sheer weight of the thing pressing down on the bed. I’m not sure if this lack of air counts as a vacuum, but the new duvet certainly sucks.*

*7 Reasons (.org) will return tomorrow but may not be back the following day as I may die a hideous death under the duvet of doom.

December 13, 2010
7 Reasons Ironing Is Dangerous

1. Ironing Board Covers. Goodness knows why man can’t invent a cover that actually fits the ironing board properly. I don’t know, maybe it is just one of those impossible challenges. Like building a pyramid upside down. Anyway, an ironing board cover that decides to flap around and generally not stay where it is meant to, really annoys me. So much so that I might kick out. Unfortunately, the same git who decided not to design the cover properly, also left sharp bits of metal on the underside of the board.

2. Calluses. In the same way that one might gain calluses on their finger tips as they play the guitar, I am developing them where the fingers meet the palm of the hand. Not dangerous in itself, but a sign that I am developing a reputation for being someone who likes ironing. And that is a very dangerous reputation to live with.

3. RSI. No not Repetitive Strain Injury, but Ridiculously Short Ironing-Board. How the bloody hell am I supposed to remove all the creases from the duvet cover if I can only iron 12% of its surface area at anyone time? The rest just creases itself on the floor. So I have to do it again. And again. And again. Until I become an addict. And addictions are dangerous.

4. Trip Hazards. And while we are talking about my duvet cover creasing itself on the floor, I must also point out that it’s also trip hazard. Or at least 88% of it is. Poxy thing. I have enough trouble staying upright as it is. I don’t need props.

5. RSI. No, not Ridiculously Short Ironing-Board – we’ve dealt with that already – but Repetitive Strain Injury. There are only so many movements you can make with an iron – assuming you are doing the job properly anyway. Right to left or left to right seem to be the only options. I would love to do top to bottom, but whoever invented bras made it impossible.

6. Sharks. You may be thinking, ‘How they hell do sharks make ironing dangerous?’ Trust me, if you are doing your ironing on a surfboard the last thing you need to worry about is whether your girlfriend is going to notice that iron shaped burn.

7. People. They generally don’t like it when you iron their clothes. Especially if: (a) they are complete strangers and (b) they are wearing them at the time. Usually this will result in either: (a) a punch, (b) an arrest warrant or (c) both.

July 20, 2010
7 Reasons to Have a Lie-In

1. Avoid The Sun. Spending an extra hour in bed in the summer means that you avoid an extra hour of exposure to the sun, This is a good thing. The sun gives cancer; the sun gives burn; the sun can cause blindness. It’s a hazard. When people are exposed to the sun, their skin warms and darkens like that of a chicken in an oven. This is because the sun is slowly cooking us, though for what nefarious purpose, I cannot begin to speculate. The sun is evil: Stay in bed and avoid it.

2. Regress. Being a grown-up is not always fun – I am told – and sometimes a return to more infant-like-state is just the tonic that an adult needs. Being in bed is oft compared to being in the womb; naked, yet protected, insulated from the outside world by the smothering, security of the duvet. It’s better than that though. Being under the duvet is also like being in a den. And what better place is there for your inner-child than a den?

3. Mornings. The morning is the wrong time to be up and about. It’s the time of day when you stumble around bleary-eyed trying to pour coffee and multivitamins into yourself in an attempt to feel vaguely human, and usually fail. The morning is full of dull events like selecting a shirt; commuting; the consumption of muesli; junk-mail; conversations about last night’s television. If you lie-in though, you suffer less morning and you’re more alive and alert when the best part of the day comes; the evening. All of the best, most glamorous and wondrous things happen in the evening; award ceremonies; parties; dining out; gigs; owls; theatre performances, they’re all things that happen at the better end of the day that you shouldn’t be too tired to enjoy.

4. Plans. People plan things, it’s what we do. You probably had today already mapped out before you went to bed last night. But plans aren’t a good thing: The CIA planned to assassinate Fidel Castro; Hitler planned World War II; the VCCP agency planned the Compare The Meerkat advertising campaign; an idiot planned Milton Keynes. If you spontaneously decide to lie-in, you say “no” to plans and liberate yourself from their fiendish tyranny.

5. Toast Avoidance. One of the hazards of mornings is toast which, for some reason, doesn’t exist after 11am. Stay in bed: Avoid toast.

6. Romance. You don’t have to lie-in alone, you can share your den…er…bed with someone else. You can even have breakfast-in-bed together. Not toast, obviously, as the crumbs will get everywhere and could be physically painful: Imagine trying to sleep on a toast-crumb covered pillow. But, even if there is toast, it’s still quality time with a loved one, and that must be a good thing.

7. Health. Sleep debt is the name for a cumulative lack of sleep. It is said to shorten life. So, logically, for a longer life you should be in sleep credit. A lie in will help with this. You can also become immortal by sleeping for 24 hours per day – though modern science is yet to cotton on to this – which, ironically, would make immortality almost exactly like death, but without the flowers. Or I may have dreamt that last bit during a lie-in, I’m not certain.

June 3, 2010