If there’s one little pleasure to be extracted from insomnia it’s that point, usually around 2am, where you give up the tossing and turning and trying to settle and think “bollocks to this, I’m getting a drink and a snack”
Then you sneak into the kitchen, get momentarily blinded by the light of the fridge before trying to silently retrieve a glass and pour some milk, then retreat to the bedroom with a handful of biscuits or chocolate like Billy Bunter raiding the tuck shop (a reference for the younger readers there).
Meh, looks like another night of crumbs and podcasts.
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