Daylight. Sweet, shiny daylight. Toward the sky I raise my eye, and into my eye the sky looks back. Nothing, dear reader, nothing at all, could be more pleasant than this. Or…could it? No. No it could not.

In my excitement I look at the sun. So bright it is that I am suddenly filled with terror, and scream out loud. A woman who is walking past me jumps in fright, and stares at me strangely. I catch her gaze, stand perfectly still, and wink nonstop for 10 seconds. For some reason she decides to back away slowly, turn, and stride very briskly into the distance. Females! Will I ever unlock the key to your mysterious hearts?

I am very happy at present, and not at all scared. That, dear reader, is because the sun is out. In the depths of last night, however, things were most different indeed.

I was sitting, as is my wont, upon the sofa, with a half-eaten chalice of pot noodles resting ‘pon my knee. My mouth and chin were in severe pain, as I had spent the past few minutes furiously slurping the boiling noodly mush off my spoon. It was far, far, FAR too hot for human consumption, but I was most ravenous indeed. Try as I might to eat more slowly, I could not. It was as if the spoon had taken control of my arm, my mouth had taken control of the spoon, and my belly had taken control of my mouth.

At some point I slipped from consciousness into foul nightmarish dreams. I was in a freezing, desolate wasteland, surrounded by mountains of crisp blue ice. My body was unbearably cold. Suddenly, a cute young penguin waddled in my direction and sat in my lap. To my surprise, the funny little bird was unbelievably hot. I awoke yelling in pain, to notice the noodle bowl had tipped its molten contents over my thigh.

I had forgotten to wrap myself in my favourite fluffy blanket, and so was at once shivering and almost hypothermic, but also superheated in a very localised area of my upper leg. I limped to the kitchen, ripped off my trousers, made myself a sandwich, and devoured it mercilessly. I then collapsed into a heavy sleep beneath the very door of the refrigerator.

Once more I pass into the strange slumber-realm of unconscious lucidity. I am skipping and giggling through fields of long grass, throwing handfuls of daisies into the air in an extremely manly fashion. A huge grin spreads across my face. Suddenly, I stumble into a waterfall of milk that enters my nose and mouth, forcing me to choke and gasp unsuccessfully for air.

I awake in terror. Garrett. My foul, obnoxious, gremlin of a housemate, belly poking disturbingly from within an undersized girl’s Tshirt, stands over me. In his hand he holds a 4 pint bottle of milk, containing but 1 pint of the white liquid. The rest of that bovine delicacy he has, unwittingly, tipped on my graceful sleeping form. I spring to my feet, clutch a firm chorizo sausage from the freezer, and knock the imbecile unconscious.

I glance at my watch. 10.50 am. Far beyond acceptable breakfast time, and I am yet to eat. I begin to panic. Fortunately I notice another of my despicable flatmates, McNeill, is sat at the table with a plate of bacon in front of her. I sneak to her side and, with one slow, constant movement, shove her to the floor with my foot while raising her plate to my lips. Into my mouth the bacon tumbles.

I am filled with total and utter joy, and run singing into the street ready for another tremendous day.

It was a struggle, but once again I had survived the night without my precious teddy bear to scare away the ghosts and ghouls.

And so the story ends for now dear reader. Until the sun sets once more…