Scary Sleep

At the grand old age of 19, I feel I've had an eventful life. I'm neither old, nor wise but the way my life has panned out has made me learn that a lot can happen in a small amount of time. Now if you've read my other blogs you'd understand that I'm not afraid to admit my phobias, and going to sleep is most definitely one of them. Not because it's dark or the monsters could get me, but that losing conscious for the mandatory 8 hours is frankly terrifying. It is probably worse for me because I'm quite a heavy sleeper and it takes a lot to wake me up. I slept through an oil depot explosion once, which according to the rest of my family sounded like a gun shot in our house. Because of this I'm prone to pen marker attacks like the one below and pictures telling everyone that I was smashed off a small amount of alcohol when really I was just tired. You can understand then, my fear that a friend or my sister could ring in need of help late at night or that my 3am alarm might not go off to get up for work (I work early mornings). After waking up, I can only breathe a sigh of relief when I've made sure I've had no:

• Phone calls from work
• "Help me I'm getting attacked" texts from my friends
• Marker pen on my face

It's safe to say that when I have kids or some kind of responsibility in the future, I'm never going to sleep.

Pain

When it comes to pain, I am not the best at dealing with it. A few months back I managed to detach my nail from my toe. I was in so much shock from the pain, that panicking I rang my mum saying that I needed an ambulance. Her natural response was "Grow a pair Alex! you've just broken a nail" and  thinking back it was a pretty stupid thing to do because she was 40 miles away and able to do absolutely nothing about it. On the other hand...

After that day, Alex and his nail's relationship was hanging by a thread and they began to grow apart, until one day it had had just about enough of him and fell off completely (73 painstaking days of struggling to put socks on)

Gardening

Gardening to me is a pointless hobby. I don't really enjoy it but I do it for money, and the odd tenner here and there doesn't hurt. It can be pretty dangerous for people that use chain saws and lawn mowers but I mostly pick up leaves and move them from one place to another which sounds pretty tame... However a few months ago whilst innocently moving leaves from one place to another, I stepped on a rake like in those comedy sketches. Any normal person would have been hit in the face or low chin area but no...because I'm a genetic giant, it hit me straight in the balls...

..I haven't been outside since

Knowing something that someone else doesn't know so you think you're better than them

Knowledge is a very powerful ideal, which is not to be messed with. Some people take advantage of knowledge and treat others like shit if they happen to have more. I found that when I was at school, if you had less knowledge you were less cool. There are two types of knowledge. The first is, of-course when you are a genuinely smart person with goals in your life and you pay attention during education to gain some kind of prospect for your future.
The second is secrets. Secrets tend to be for the slightly dimmer side of the population who don't have real knowledge to their advantage and spend most of their school days in detention or off "sick".
So to make up for the small brain, they decide to take part in some sort of sexual relation with a person that no-one has ever heard of. They then tell a group of people (who they know will tell everyone else) all the details except for the name of the person they had the relation with so everyone wants to know. This gives them the power of knowledge over other people. Then after it has been dragged out for years on end, the person then lets out the first name of the person but not the second. A few years later we get the second name; everyone Facebooks them and finds out they are either:

(a) an ugly munter
(b) have chlamydia
(c) don't exist.