7 Reasons

Tag: nightmares

  • 7 Reasons That a Dream Bath is Better Than an Actual Bath

    7 Reasons That a Dream Bath is Better Than an Actual Bath

    Hello 7 Reasons readers!  I have a confession to make.  I love baths, but it turns out that for years I’ve been bathing wrong.  I know this because this morning I had an epiphany (or should that be a baptism as I’m writing about baths).  I woke up, having dreamt that I’d had a bath, and that dream bath was better than an actual bath.  Here are seven reasons why.

    Fortunately not my bath.

    1.  It Saved Time. The major problem with taking a bath – and the reason that most people end up settling for showers – is the amount of time it takes.  It takes time to fill them up and you tend to spend a lot of time in them.  This takes a substantial chunk out of the day.  Dream baths, however, are different.  You can spend hours in a dream bath and it’ll only take seconds out of your life.  That’s time that you would have been using to sleep anyway.  It’s like being given the gift of time but there’s no wrapping paper to recycle, which saves further time.  It probably makes time.

    2.  It Was The Right Temperature.  My dream bath was the correct temperature, which is approximately halfway between “Ooh!  Ooh!  Ooh!  Ooh!  Ooh!” and “Gah!”  Actual baths are always intemperate and usually end up turning that initial cautious toe either red or blue.  Or brown, if the bath hasn’t been cleaned.

    3.  I Was Able To Share It.  Sharing an actual bath is seldom the dreamy, romantic pastime it is popularly portrayed as.  When sharing a dream bath though, your eyes will already be closed so you can share it with absolutely anyone.  I shared mine with my wife who was a reluctant and water-shy cat named Marmalade.  Eventually she settled down and enjoyed the bath, right up until the moment that she morphed into a roof-tile and sank without trace at the tap-end, forcing me to eat the rest of the yoghurt alone.

    4.  Finding The Soap.  In your actual bath, you’ll probably find that you spend approximately 8.4% of your time trying to find the soap that you’ve just dropped (which is not as surprising an experience as trying to find it when in prison, but it is still rather an irksome chore).  In the dream bath, however, there’s always soap, probably from Lush.  And you can bathe safe in the knowledge that it will never, ever have a pubic hair stuck to it.  Unless, of course, that’s what you dream about, in which case you’re making my dreams seem positively conventional.  And you should never sleep again.

    5.  No Interruption.  My dream bath – unlike my actual baths – wasn’t interrupted by anyone knocking on the bathroom door asking to use the toilet.  It was interrupted by a pelican asking for directions to Mr Bobble’s House of Wobbles, but I got rid of him simply by clapping my hands together and shouting “Muffins!”  He was far easier to deal with than the desperate and persistent aspiring toilet-users that blight actual baths.  Sometimes it seems that pregnant women want to pee just to spite you, and during a long bath, when you’re sharing a house with a pregnant lady, you can find yourself being spited several times.  Then that finishes and for the next eighteen years you’ll have a child that will interrupt you in the bath.  In my dream bath that did not happen.  Obviously, my sleep was interrupted by the child, but that’s a slightly different thing.  Probably.

    6.  No Cleaning.  Unlike your actual bath, you’ll never have to clean your dream bath – unless you actually dream about cleaning baths, in which case, thank you, mine was spotless when I got in and I really enjoyed the scented candles and the petals floating on the surface.  The meticulously constructed wigwam of bath-towels might have been a step too far though, but you won’t find me complaining.  Not least because I can hide in the wigwam while I’m doing so.  For other people that don’t clean baths in their sleep, the good news is you won’t have to clean the bath in your sleep.  That’s good news.

    7.  Wake Refreshed And Ready.  Nothing prepares you for your day like a dream bath because – like nothing – having a dream bath is not actually having a bath.  You will, however, wake feeling refreshed, invigorated and ready for your day; I know I did.  You’ll have to spend a large part of that day dodging mirrors and people with a sense of smell, but surely that’s a small price to pay for the amazing time saving and great start to the day.  And how close do you really want people to stand to you anyway?  With a dream bath, you can keep them at armpit’s length.  It’s all win.

  • 7 Reasons You Shouldn’t Share a Bed With Me

    7 Reasons You Shouldn’t Share a Bed With Me

    The 7 Reasons Sofa with a big, red arrow

    Hi, I’m Marc.  I’m half of the 7 Reasons team – the one with the feet.  Some of you probably imagine that after a long day on the 7 Reasons sofa, in the manner of Laurel and Hardy or Morecambe and Wise, Jon and I put on our jim-jams and nightcaps and retire to the 7 Reasons bed for some hard-earned slumber.  This is not true, please un-think it.  The reality is, in fact, more bizarre than that.

    I would just like to make it clear that today’s 7 Reasons post is not 7 reasons that you shouldn’t share a bed with our website, and it isn’t 7 reasons that you shouldn’t share a bed with Jon (you’ll probably have your own reasons for that), it’s 7 Reasons that you shouldn’t share a bed with me – sorry if that upsets any plans.

    Red and white image of an insomniac man with alarm clock

    1.  Reading.  I read in bed.  My bedtime reading matter of choice is often a large, heavy, hardback biography or a similarly weighty historical tome.  Consequently, holding a book tires my arms – especially when I’m fidgeting (I do a lot of fidgeting) between positions.  At some point I will use the nearest person as a book-rest – their head is the most practical place to rest my book as it is at my eye-level.  I’m told that this is annoying.

    2.  Decapitation.  I like to have two pillows to myself – one placed on top of the other.  In my struggle to get comfortable/block out sound/block out light/keep my head warm/move into the night’s eighty-third position, I often place my head between the pillows.  I find this position comfortable.  If you wake up sharing a bed with me, you will briefly believe that you are sharing the bed with a headless man.  This will startle you.  Every time.

    3.  Radio.  I listen to the radio in bed – BBC Radio 5Live’s Up All Night programme – it keeps me informed, educated and entertained while I am failing to sleep.  This is fine until 2:40am on Wednesdays.  That’s when Cash Peters is on.  That’s when the sound of my (poorly) stifled laughter will wake you up.  You will probably wonder why tears are streaming down my face; you’re likely to wonder why I’m biting the duvet (this is for your benefit, you’re welcome); you may wonder if I’m having a funny turn; you will definitely wonder if the spare bed is unoccupied.

    4.  Soft toys.  If I should find a cuddly-toy in, or even near, the bed, I feel compelled to tuck it in.  If you are not expecting to wake up flanked by a slumbering bear, a recumbent penguin, a sleepy elephant or a dozing handbag (I get confused in the dark), it can be quite disconcerting.

    5.  Curling.  Not everything I do in bed is annoying.  I often curl up into a tiny ball under the covers.  This hampers my breathing somewhat, so I fashion myself a small air-hole in the side of the duvet and poke my nose out through it.  This, I am told, is one of the cutest things in the world.  And it probably is, right up until you try to move my painstakingly-positioned sheets.  Then you’ll find yourself involved in a life-and-death tussle for control of the duvet.  And I always win.

    6.  Experimentation.  During the night many important questions will pop into my head, prompting me to experiment on the nearest sleeping person.  What if I poke my finger in her ear?  What if I blow in her eye?  What if I drip water on her forehead?  What if I tie her hair to the headboard and shout “Boo!?”  What if I loudly mimic her breathing pattern for several minutes then stop abruptly?  What if I coo like a pigeon and flap the top of the duvet around?  The possibilities are limitless.

    7.  Sleep.  Eventually, I will wear myself out and fall asleep.  Don’t think that’s where the fun ends though.  It’s then that I think up entire 7 Reasons posts that make no sense at all and get chased around the house by a horse.  As I flee the dream-horse my legs will flail and I may emit noises – I might even say, “Crikey, a horse!” again.  I have also been observed barking like a dog and trying to dig a hole in the mattress with my front paws…er…hands.  I meant hands.  By this stage, you may not know what time it is, but you’ll probably decide that it’s time to get up, which is great as I’d love a coffee.