Try as I might, I cannot fall asleep before 2am. I sometimes try, putting tea towels over the clocks and forcing myselt to go to bed at 12.30am. I never win. For someone who is rarely on time, my body clock always knows when it’s too early to go to bed and I just lie there in the dark like I’m hiding.
This is understandable when you remember I work evenings and rarely get home before midnight, often much later. As a result, I get up at about 10am each day.
Our little cat comes for a snuggle, then the big cat mews for a stroke and moves a few paces, then another stroke, then another few paces, until we realise he has mewed us into the kitchen where their food bowls are. So they eat, we eat, and then we get on with our days. The first time I stop for any telly would be 3pm when we have lunch. Yes, meals are all knocked out of whack, too. I’ve eaten stew and dumplings at 3am. Oh I’ve lived.
I thought I’d get up early (for me) and sample morning telly. What a bunch of moaning minnies are on the telly of a morning. On BBC1 was a show where a family had moved to have a new life abroad and, rather than properly discuss her unhappiness with her husband over a cup of tea and phones on silent, she did it on the telly. I don’t even know what that show was called. The Grass Isn’t Greener or Crying Abroad. But I suspect that it’s a show specifically designed to prepare you for the horrors of Jeremy Kyle over on ITV. Like the verruca pool at the swimming baths. Or a verruca pool before a big pile of verrucas.
To say I’ve never seen The Jeremy Kyle Show would be a lie. I once woke up too early in a hotel and put the telly on low to help me drift back off to sleep. Then woke up to such loud shouting that I thought the place was on fire. Nope, just some teenagers who can’t remember who they’ve slept with.
Today I watched it. For you. You’re welcome. The following things struck me:
When Jeremy was repeatedly shouting at a bloke to tell the truth, I was momentarily transported into the courtroom drama A Few Good Men, where the forgetful philanderer was played by an angry Jack Nicholson. It was a welcome break.
When Kyle recommended I join him after the break, it was scary enough for me to say, “OK! OK!” aloud, even though I was alone.
The question after the break, “Why have you got scratches on your neck if you haven’t cheated?” can be answered thusly:
a I cuddle my cats too tightly when they’re being cute.
b My cats don’t like being cuddled.
c I have eczema
d I scratched my own neck with a snagged fingernail.
e I caught it on something
f I had a fun fight with a child I know.
g I’m having an affair. I knew it. With a small, bitey insect. Oh.
I also watched a smashing episode of See Hear on BBC2, which featured a follow-up on some hearing-impaired bairns and how their schooling was going. Interesting, sweet and inspiring. Then there is the balm of This Morning, like your first Creme Egg of the day. Holly and Phil move seamlessly from unlinked item to unlinked item, smiling and serious-facing where appropriate. On the show I watched, I found out that people can be scared of piercings, that you can polish your hob with baby oil and that Katie Melua is rubbish at ironing.
My favourite segment was Guess the Gadget, which is especially good if you sing it to the tune of Stop the Pigeon.
Next time, I’m going to get up even earlier to see if there’s telly on at 8am! Crazy.
Bright side of the Moone
Hooray for the return of Moone Boy (Mondays 9pm Sky1). Of all of my DVDs, it’s the one I’ve lent to friends the most. And it always comes back with big smiles.
The Sarah Millican Television Programme — Best of Series 1 & 2 is available on DVD at radiotimes.com/dvdshop