Here I am, firmly in the territory of the insomniac, and wondering what to say. I have decided to finish with the numbered titles because, as Tootlepedal said, it does tend to make you more aware of the passing time. However, I confess that tonight, I will be glad just to slap a number on it and go to bed.
I had a disturbed night lat night, a strange dream and, after returning from work, an evening of intermittent napping in my chair. As a result, I wasn’t tired at bedtime.
This evening I did some research on poetry magazines, took my methotrexate (ten tiny tablets once a week) and began to catalogue my medallion collection.
The irony of methotrexate, for those of you who are not familiar with it, is that they are very fiddly tablets, not much bigger than the head of a dress-making pin. I take them for arthritis, which even with the drugs, still makes my fingers inconveniently stiff. You would have thought that tablets to treat a condition that causes such a loss of manual dexterity would be big, rather than tiny. Normally they make things, like print and keys, bigger for us old folk.
The medallion collection is intended to be 100 in number, with one for every year from 1900 to 2000, which is actually 101. I decided on that because there are always such arguments about when centuries begin and end. The 20th century actually started on January 1, 1901 and ended on December 31, 2000. However, we all celebrated the new millennium on December 31, 1999. I could do the right thing, start it at the year 1901 and argue with people about it for years to come. Or I can start it in 1900 and explain to the few people who notice, that I want a quiet life more than I want to be 100% accurate.
The medal for 1900 commemorates the centenary of the death of poet William Cowper. I now know a lot more about him than I did this afternoon, which shows how useful numismatics is as a hobby. I now know, for instance, that I have been pronouncing his name wrong. It’s pronounced Cooper.