Tag: Sleep

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Never Go Camping In Australia

Surprisingly (to me) it seems camping is one of the most popular ways for tourists around England and the world to stay down under. While many might argue the way you choose to holiday is purely personal preference, this article explains why choosing hotels over camping for your Australian trip is the right preference to have.

1. You sleep on the floor. “That was the best sleep I’ve ever had!” said someone on a camping trip, never. Sure, slumming it in your Mickey Mouse sleeping bag in your friends’ living room was cool when you were a kid, but can we really trust the memory of someone who had just graduated from eating worms and tying their shoelaces? Even for more advanced campers who come equipped with air mattresses or fold out stretchers; you know what’s easier than that? Pre-made hotel beds with amazingly crisp fresh sheets!

2. Communal showers. Need I say more? I suppose if you prefer neighbouring shower buddies, whose shampoo water creeps under the wall onto your side, and a long walk back to your campsite where your feet get dirtier than they were before it isn’t so bad. And for those people really going all out and camping in the outback, I hope you don’t expect to hug your loved ones when you return home.

3. No nice surprises left on your pillow. And if there is, it’s probably not ‘nice’ and it’s probably not advisable to touch it.

4. Not necessarily cheaper. A big reason people choose to spend hours pitching tents and waking up with sore backs is because they think they will save money. A word of caution for those who have never experienced the Australian outback before; it’s not just your expensive bedding, tent, cooking utensils and equipment and extensive toiletries that you will need. Make sure you pack bug spray, sunblock, first aid supplies for preliminary application to spider and snake bites, a suitable hat, boots and weather gear, amongst other items. Alternatively, hotels do have a fool proof way to combat all of these things; walls. And they are usually* included in the cost of your bill!

5. Not necessarily more eco-friendly. It’s the justification many make as they drive their stakes into the earth and dig a hole deemed their bathroom for the week. OK, so maybe skipping on a few days of electricity and running water will do the environment some good, but most modern accommodation is fairly aware and active in reducing their carbon foot. Between recycling bins and electricity-activated key cards, you’ll still get that feel-good kick without having to sleep in the wild.

6. It’s not ‘Australian’. Contrary to popular belief, camping down under is not the “Aussie” way to visit. You know who invented that myth? Australians. So they could laugh at tourists from their comfortable air-conditioned hotel rooms. It’s up there with lies such as “everyone rides around on kangaroos” – sorry if that ruined it for anyone. It’s a little known secret, but you can actually do all the best touristy things the biggest island in the world has to offer, and have a comfortable sleep every night.

7. You have friends and family who love you very much. They don’t want to see you suffer. And if they do, they’ll send you on a camping trip.

*Always

Written by Melinda Jennings on behalf of Punthill.

July 21, 2012
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Get Your Sofa Fixed

There are few things more necessary in your home than a good sofa. Somewhere to socialise, somewhere to relax, somewhere for extra guests to sleep, somewhere for you to sleep yourself when you have fallen asleep in the middle of Newsnight – again, somewhere for you and a loved one to snuggle, somewhere for your visiting nephews to jump all over and smear Easter eggs into.

Here are just seven of the many reasons for you to get your sofa fixed and fit for purpose.

1. You Are Not A Student Any Longer. It might be acceptable, when you are living on beans and super noodles, to have somewhere you don’t care about the spills and stickiness. To have a place where you don’t care that your best mate – the one with his aversion to baths and who’s Mum hasn’t been up to collect the laundry for some time – falls asleep on for the fifth time that week. That time is long gone. Wake up and smell the sofa. Replace the cushions, give it a good clean and put the missing wheel back on.

2. Your Mum Will Moan At You And Think You Can’t Look After Yourself. This is a good thing when it means shepherd’s pie deliveries and the odd bit of dusting and vacuuming. When she is griping over and again about the state of your furniture, it’s boring and avoidable. Get your cushion foam replaced and a new cover and she will sit and chat with you and ask when you are going to let her meet your girlfriend and when you’ll make her a granny. Actually, perhaps it’s better if she just moans about the sofa.

3. It’s Uncomfortable To Idle On A Lumpy Sofa. Idling is important. It’s time to reflect on your life, time to relax and ponder on the universe and all its beings. You can’t do that unless you are sitting pretty or, even better, horizontal on some luxuriously fat cushions.

4. You Need To Have Somewhere For Your Mates To Sit And Watch Football. You can’t have them putting their backside’s through the seat when they flop back down after contesting that all-important penalty or the little celebratory run around the living room. Fix those slats.

5. Springs Through The Bum Ain’t No Fun! Vintage sofa’s may look cool, but springs poking out of old horsehair and straw is a bit of a pain in the arse. Search the internet for reliable upholstery firms or companies like Cutfoam offering foam cut to size that you can cover up those springs and bare bots that leave you bruised.

6. You Can’t Make A Den With Flat, Floppy Cushions. Those visiting nephews will take a lot more intensive looking after and effort on your part if you don’t have some solid kit – and that includes some good stiff sofa cushions that can be propped up against the back to make a den/battle ship/castle. When they’ve finished playing, you can sit them down on the very same sofa to watch a bit of kid’s tv. Trust me, you will want to delay this as long as possible. Fix the cushions.

7. No Woman Will Snuggle With You On A Crappy Sofa. You need a sofa that smells good, that is sif enough to schlompf into, and that is wide enough for you both to fit, but not wide enough that you aren’t pretty close together. Removable back cushions help with creating enough space to lie down for a good old nuzzle.

Enjoy!

April 28, 2012
7 Reasons To Watch The Rugby World Cup

Here we go then. After four years of waiting England are finally about to bring the Webb Ellis Trophy home again. Don’t worry though, if you are of another nationality, there are still reasons to watch.

1. The Perennials. Yes, I’m talking about New Zealand. Favourites for the fifth tournament in a row and justifiably so. The Kiwis are very good and every other team out there is quite frankly abysmal. Add into the mix that they are also hosts then the odds of 8/13 still seem quite generous. To an uneducated supporter that is. Everyone else knows that New Zealand will not win. They are chokers. Defeated in the 1995 final, the 1999 and 2003 semi-finals and the 2007 quarter-finals. They are the Netherlands of the rugby world. So much natural talent and yet so little mental toughness. The draw has been kind to them this year, they play their nemeses France in the group stage meaning they’ll win that one. A quarter-final against Argentina won’t provide too many difficulties, but then they come up against the Aussies – who, after losing to Ireland in the group stages, knock South Africa out in the quarters. And the Aussies win that one. Because they know how.

2. The Group Of Death. If there is such a thing as the group of death in this World Cup, it’s group D. Neither Wales nor South Africa will find it easy against Samoa or Fiji and while South Africa’s experience should help them through, Wales may be heading home early. Which is obviously a shame because New Zealand is full of sheep.

3. The Minnows. That’s right, I’m talking about Scotland. They should be entertaining to watch. For a neutral anyway. For a Scot there’ll be a dispiriting draw against Romania, two horrendous defeats to Argentina and Georgia and then a two-point win against England. Just because that’s all the Scots care about. And because Hape will be playing for England instead of the suspended Tulagi – who head-butted one touch-judge, two cheerleaders and a supporters coach during the game against Argentina.

4. Sleep Deprivation. The time difference means all of us who fine-tuned the art of staying awake all night followed by a half-arsed day at work during The Ashes, get to do it all over again. The first game between the hosts and Tonga is really just a warm-up. The fun starts on Saturday morning. The first of four games kicks off at 2am. There are no forty-minute lunch breaks to sleep through. No rain-delays to give you an excuse to go to bed. Just rugby, rugby, rugby. But that’s great because being deprived of sleep is wonderful. It puts you in a trance-like state through which you do all the jobs you hate without even realising. It really should be available on the National Health.

5. Commentary. With no Ortis Deley presenting, we have to look to the commentators for tongue-twisters. And, in particular, the unlucky sole who pulled the short straw and will find themselves in Auckland on 25th September commentating on Fiji v Samoa. If you know your Waqaniburotu, Murimurivalu and Koyamaiboles from your Treviranus, Poluleuligaga and Tagicakibaus then I suggest you give ITV a call. You’ll almost certainly be put on stand-by. For the rest of us, this has drinking game written all over it. For every mispronunciation, it’s two fingers. You’ll be wrecked by 6am.

6. The Unexpected. Last year ITV performed quite a coup. They got Francois Pienaar to join their line-up for the Football World Cup. Yes, the rugby legend Francois Pienaar. One assumes this was because the World Cup was being hosted in South Africa. So this begs the question, which Kiwi football star have they lined up to offer expert analysis on the scrum? That’s right, it’s Blackburn defender and current Kiwi captain, Ryan Nelson. I expect.

Blackburn’s Ryan Nelson Will Be In ITV’s Analysis Truck For The Rugby World Cup

7. The Alternative. Well that would be to listen to it. On, wait for it, TalkSport. Yes, that’s right, TalkSport! They have exclusive rights which means no Ian Robertson this year. They do have a decent commentary team with John Taylor and Brian Moore in the ranks, but my problem is that they’ll keep interrupting the matches to tell us that Nick Barmby has rejoined Spurs on a free and some twat from a van-hire company will repeatedly tell they’re the best in Canvey Island. I don’t want to know! Then we’ll probably have Jon Gaunt doing a rugby phone-in with Nick Griffin. It’s not going to be pretty. Watch it on TV instead. Watch it on a real channel. Watch it on… oh… erm… it’s on ITV again.

September 8, 2011
7 Reasons The Zoo Is My Habitat

Last week I did something I hadn’t done since I was a boy. I went to the zoo. I’m not going to lie, I immediately felt at home. Here’s why:

Zoolympics Challlenge 1: Stick Your Head Through A Set Of Shark Dentures And Look Sexy

1. Playground. As I may have expressed before, I am a boy trapped in a man’s body. Though whose it is, I am yet to establish. I have never grown up and I don’t intend to. I like being silly. Silly is good. I also like swinging from things while being silly. I saw monkeys at the zoo. They were being silly. And swinging. And picking their noses. It looked awesome. Well, maybe not the picking the nose bit. That made me a little bit sick. But the silliness and the swinging was definitely for me. I want to do that.

2. Sleep. Generally, after I’ve had a day of being silly and swinging around the clothes line, I like to have a sleep. Unfortunately I am prevented in this pursuit by one of two things. Either Claire arrives home or, as sometimes happens, Claire is already at home. Such appearances from my future wife make it very hard to sleep when there are important things to do such as make dinner, plan weddings* or – and the notion still makes me shiver – talk. At the zoo, there was silliness, swinging and sleeping. A whole lot of sleeping.

3. Talk. As previously indicated, I’m not a big fan of talking. I absolutely loathe small-talk. And, as for big-talk, I would rather do a naked lap of St. Andrews. (The football ground, not the golf course. My embarrassment does not need enhancing by the cold Scottish winds). It’s not that I’m uninterested in what you have to say, it’s more that The Tremeloes said Silence Is Golden and I have never stopped listening to them. The thing I noticed at the zoo was that animals don’t talk. Not even a little bit. They make weird noises occasionally – which is nice – but there’s no talking. And no animals asking other animals to talk to them either. Which means more time for silliness, swinging and sleeping. They’ve got it sorted.

4. Feeding. Some of the animals are fed upwards of four times a day. And I’m not talking about snacks here, I am talking proper meals. Four proper meals. Each day. That’s my kind of feeding.

5. Chores. With the exception of the ants who seemingly work all day and all night carrying bits of leaf over logs, non of the animals at the zoo have to work. Or go to school. Or get the shopping in. Or iron their trousers. (In fact, many of the animals I saw were naked). Animals, from what I have seen, don’t do any of the boring stuff at all. They’ve never had to write essays on Pride & Prejudice. They’ve never had to stand in a queue at the bank. They’ve never experienced an episode of Time Team. Their work-life balance is perfect. No work, all life. And life, as I’m sure we can all agree, is for living. It is not for spending in Barclays.

6. Vanity. It’s an alarming statistic, but if I was to walk down the entire length of Regent Street ten times in a row, only on seven of those would someone stop and take a photo of me. For someone who fancies themselves quite as much as I do and does their very best to live up to the meaning of their name – Gift Of God – it’s rather upsetting when someone just walks past without even so much as a raise of the eyebrow. In the zoo though, everyone would be taking photos of me. I’d probably even appear on postcards and desktop backgrounds and t-shirts. And that is the way it should be.

7. Olympic Qualities. As I was walking around the zoo I was challenged to a number of Olympic contests. The Zoolympics they called it. A name that made me chuckle uncontrollably for at least twenty-two seconds. From what I experienced the Zoolympics were designed to belittle me. In less than three hours I discovered that my reaction time was slower than the Blue Dart Frog, my wingspan was shorter than the Wandering Albatros and my backside wasn’t as stripy as Okapi. Which all leads me to believe that if I want to win Gold at anything, anytime soon, I need to move to the zoo to be pumped full of whichever Performance Enhancing Drugs the zookeepers have access to. I felt stupid being outwitted by a frog. Really, really stupid. But at least I beat my Dad.

*You do only have one wedding don’t you? It’s just that having booked both the church and the reception venue there is apparently so much still to do. How? I would like to know how?

September 7, 2011
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.

August 25, 2011
7 Reasons Blackout Blinds Are Surprisingly Effective

My wife and I are trying to train our child to recognise the difference between day and night at the moment and the latest weapon in our armoury is a blackout blind: a blind which prevents any light coming through the window. This, we not unreasonably thought, would prevent our six-week old son waking up at 5am when sunlight streams through our East facing bedroom window and would help him get into a settled routine of sleeping at night. So far, it has proved effective (after a fashion).

1. Fitting. As the member of the 7 Reasons team that is competent at DIY I envisaged that there would be no problems installing our blind, and I was almost correct. It was incredibly simple to fit, with only a bit of light drilling required. And it was simple right up until the moment – while I was balanced precariously atop a step-ladder – that everything went dark. Not just dim, you should understand, but dark. Preternaturally dark. Darker than spending a dark night in the darkest room of the Prince of Darkness wearing a sleeping mask. Darker than anything ever. There was no light. “Help!” “Help!” I called until my wife came up the stairs and opened the door, flooding the room with light from the hallway. “It all went dark”, I explained to a sceptical wife who couldn’t comprehend – or didn’t believe – that something as insubstantial as a piece of material could block out all light. I climbed down from the ladder with my reputation for DIY prowess, if not my dignity, intact.

2. Baby’s Bedtime. In the evening our son fell asleep before we expected him to and, rather than look a gift horse (or a sleeping baby, which is a very similar creature to a gift horse) in the mouth, we decided we would put him to bed right then. We gingerly carried him up the stairs and swaddled him in his cot. We began to sneak out of the room and paused to close the blind on the way. Everything went black. We couldn’t see a thing. We partially raised the blind again so that we could find the light switch and turned on the light so that we could see the door and find our way out. This woke the baby. Bugger.

3. Mummy’s Bedtime. Eventually, we were able to get our son back to sleep and, quite soon after, my wife snuck up to bed. I have little idea what happened, but after a couple of minutes, from my position in the room below, I heard a loud bang, followed about thirty seconds later by the noise of the baby crying. Then I heard the sound of my wife trying to placate the crying baby with a cuddly toy, before my parental selective deafness kicked in and I returned to what I was doing.

4. Daddy’s Bedtime. Eventually, the baby became quiet again and, having spent the remainder of a fascinating evening reconfiguring the 7 Reasons W3 Total Cache plugin and our email servers*, it was time for me to go to bed. I went up the stairs and changed in another room, so as not to disturb anyone. Then I snuck across the landing into the bedroom and closed the door noiselessly behind me. Where once there would have had been some residual light filtering through the blind to aid my navigation across the room, now there was none. I knew roughly where the bed was though, and I took several tentative steps toward it before stumbling over something and letting out an involuntary scream as I lost my balance and landed in a heap on the bed.

5. “AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Shrieked a lump in the bed from beneath me as, in the pitch darkness, a screaming and unknown assailant pounced on her. I groped around for the switch to the bedside light and, finding it quickly, turned it on. I looked behind me to see what was on the floor. “Are you drunk?”, the now slightly calmer lump in the bed enquired. “I fell over an owl,” I replied.

6. “WWWWAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!” Said a tiny voice from the other side of the room reacting to the sudden light. Eventually we were able to get him back to sleep.

7. Sleep. I was unaware of what occurred during the remainder of the night. I have since been told that the usual cycle of the baby waking up and requiring feeding and changing carried on unaltered by the loss of the light. I was told that this morning when, after what I can only describe as the most blissfully tranquil sleep of my life, my rather tired looking wife shook me awake and informed me it was 11am and that we were going to be late for our lunch appointment. “But it can’t be”, I replied, “It’s still pitch black”.

So there you have it. Blackout blinds do work, and you can use them to lull the unsuspecting into sleeping longer and later. They just don’t work on babies.

*I had hoped to watch a couple of episodes of Bergerac. We sacrifice a lot for 7 Reasons.

May 11, 2011
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 Not To Panic About Losing An Hour From Our Lives

Yay! It’s Friday. In the words of Rebecca Black, “fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, back seat, woohoo!, are you old enough to drive? Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!” There is even more reason to celebrate today because this weekend the clocks go forward. Lighter evenings here we come. Hang on! If the clocks go forward, doesn’t that mean we lose an hour from our lives? Well, yes it does. But don’t worry, here at 7 Reasons we have invested countless minutes researching and analysing this issue. And the good news is there is no need to panic. Here’s why:

1. Sleep. It’s only sleep we’re losing, and sleep is awful. When I’m asleep nothing of interest happens to me (unless I’m having the dream when I’m being chased around the dining room by a horse named Keith again), and I’d wager that nothing interesting happens to you either (possibly not even the Keith dream). Sleep just isn’t a desirable state for people. After all, narcolepsy is considered an illness, not a talent, and no one (except Audley Harrison) ever celebrates being knocked unconscious in a fight. That’s because sleep is rubbish. We’re all better off with less of it.

2. Sleep Walking. If you are having the dream in which you are being chased around the dining room by a horse called Keith, it might not be a dream at all. You wouldn’t know, you’re asleep. There is a possibility that it’s actually happening. Maybe, in your dream state, you got up, left the house and went to a local field. Here you crept up on a horse and shouted ‘Keith!’ in his ear. Keith stirred, got annoyed and then chased you back to your house. You didn’t shut the door in time so you spent the rest of the night being chased around the dining room table. Anyway, what I am trying to say is that this whole episode will last for one hour less on Sunday morning. And one hour less being chased by a horse called Keith means one hour less in which carnage can be created.

3. Awake. If you are not asleep, then the chances are you will be awake. Given that it will be 2am though, you won’t be sober. So from the flowerbed in the park you won’t even notice the disappearance of an hour. You’ll be too busy talking to a tulip.

4. Refund. If losing an hour from your life really hurts, don’t worry, you will automatically get it back in October. All you have to do is stay alive. Good luck!

5. Wood Pigeons. We can stand to lose an extra hour from our lives; I know this because of the wood pigeons. My wife and I were recently cooped up in a small room without the internet for several hours and we were forced to look out of the window for entertainment. The only things of note that we could see were a branch railway line and some trees. The trees contained wood pigeons. Here is a sample of the conversation:

“Ooh look, darling. A wood pigeon.”

“Yes dear.”

“Ooh look, darling, there’s another wood pigeon. Look! Look! In the next tree.”

“Yes dear.”

“Which wood pigeon do you prefer?

That is an hour we could happily have lost from our lives.

6. We’re Only Losing The Dark. It’s spring! It’s just going to get lighter. The hour we’re losing is an hour of darkness and who needs that anyway? Birds turn themselves off at night, so we’re getting an extra hour of birds, with all of the beaks, eyes and feathers that entails. Obviously that means there’ll be an extra hour of bird poo, but that means I get to see my apoplectic next door neighbour shake his fist at the sky and furiously wash his car more often. This is a bonus. More birds, people. More birds!*

7. Cure. Let’s be honest, if you are panicking about the clocks going forward, you are screwed. There is no cure for this ailment. So you have a choice, panic every year or stop being a tit and get on with it. 7 Reasons recommends the latter.

*Except owls. Bugger.

March 25, 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
Guest Post: 7 Reasons You Should Reduce Your Carbon Footprint

A few weeks ago you may remember Sam Murray telling us to keep our doors shut in case Vampires wanted to get in. With that sort of insight, we just had to get Sam back on the sofa. And here he is. Wiping his dirty footmarks off the 7 Reasons carpet. Right, I’m off. There’s someone at the door. It only ever seems to happen when Sam’s on the sofa. Coincidentally, today’s guest post was written by Sam in association with Yale Door, who are committed to reducing the carbon footprint by supplying energy efficient front doors for homes .

We have all heard of it and some of you might have even tried doing it, and no, wearing smaller trainers doesn’t count. For those of you that don’t know and have been living in a cave for the past few years a carbon footprint is “the total set of greenhouse gases (GHG) emissions caused by an organization, event, individual or product”. More importantly, it has a direct affect on climate change which, as we are told, will have a direct affect on us in the not too distant future (don’t worry not you, unless this post has been archived and is being read in 2080)

Anyway, if you needed further encouragement to reduce your carbon footprint then here are 7, naturally:

1. Otherwise You Will Be Having Breakfast With A Polar Bear. With the polar ice caps melting the increasing rise of water will open up a swimming lane direct to your door. Polar bears are strong swimmers; they often swim across bays or wide leads without hesitation and can swim for several hours at a time over long distances. They have actually been tracked swimming continuously for 100km. So make sure you pour enough cereal for two and put the kettle on.

2. To Make You All Smiley And Happy. Do you ever get the warm and fuzzy feeling when you have done a good deed? Start small by recycling and re-using items and by the time you go to bed tonight you will sleep well in the knowledge that the world is that little bit nicer than it was when you bought the paper this morning. Or if you are more of a ME man than an US, it has been proved that performing good deeds can boost your health and self-confidence.

3. No More Snow Fights. What is our fascination with the small white ice particles? We just can’t get enough of it. It remains the only time when you are allowed and even encouraged to throw things at people. So to cling onto this excuse, reduce your carbon footprint!

4. To Let Animals Get Their Full Quota Of Sleep. You know how bad you feel after a bad night’s sleep so can you imagine how grumpy a bear would feel after his hibernation is disturbed? After numerous studies Scientists believe that global warming is and will continue to affect hibernating animals, causing them to wake up earlier. The shortened hibernation period is affecting several species, including chipmunks and brown bears. If animals do reduce their hibernation period or refrain from hibernating at all it can cause quite a significant environmental problem as it can cause starvation and, possibly, increased numbers of some animals being eaten by predators.

5. Give Al Gore An Early Christmas Present. What better way to show one of the most well known environmental activists that you care by reducing your carbon footprint.

6. To Gain Membership Into Captain Planet’s Inner Circle. For all those that remember the cartoon series Captain Planet and dreamt of one day joining the gang, ‘The power is yours’. We have a duty and the ability to continue protecting the environment when Captain Planet is gone, and since the last show aired in 1996 I think it is about timer we stepped up. Sing along with me – “Captain Planet he’s our hero, gonna take pollution down to zero.”

7. The Prices Of Sunglasses And Sun Cream Will Rise. Yep, that‘s right, although you may rejoice in the warmer climate eventually shrewd suppliers will have to raise the prices of sunglasses and sun cream. Don’t blame me; it’s the pesky ‘supply versus demand’ theory.

November 6, 2010