THE EARLY GREY MORNING

I was awake early this morning. I’m sure there are more annoying times to wake up, but 04:59 is up there. Look at it. It’s ridiculous.

I knew quite quickly that I wouldn’t be getting to sleep before the sky grew light. There would not be time, and nor would my body let me. No, I sighed, the grey morning was already creeping in and that would be that.

I revised lists in my head. I looked up countries on Google maps, and recited the paltry handful of Oscar winners who live in a filing cabinet in my brain. I puzzled over Henry VI, who suddenly looked a lot more like Henry V than he should have and I skimmed through the twelve men who have walked on the moon, wondering what they would make of the theory that Kubrick faked the whole Apollo 11 thing in Studio 237. Tom Hanks popped out of the filing cabinet in his Apollo 13 space suit and told me we “have a problem” - which is all wrong. Shouldn’t he be dressed like Forrest Gump? The grey morning was mixing everything up.

In the end I just lay there looking at the ceiling. Then the alarm went off, and unceremoniously I threw back the duvet and climbed out of bed leaving Sammy to her dreams of being a starfish.

You know the biggest thing for me about the moon landings is how’d you keep the thousands of young people who worked on the project so silent. Plus, when the USA did eventually land on the moon, how could they guarantee it would be backlit to resemble a film set? What if it turned out to be completely different? It’s quite a risk.

I’m now of course, really tired. The grey morning became a downpour day. That day ended with a dank autumnal evening, and it’s now a chilly September night. This month seems to be a bit of a lottery when it comes to the weather.

“Well… you never know which you’re gonna get,” chimes in Tom from his Oscars win in 1995. Thanks Tom. Get back in the filing cabinet.