I saw an ad for the effects of meth a few days ago. It was a series of real mug shots showing people's physical deterioration from meth abuse. They went from relatively normal-looking (okay, some of them looked like snaggle-toothed inbreds from the outset) to extras from The Living Dead. It was hideous. Gaunt, skeletal, slack-jawed, scabby faces with sunken eyes, sallow skin and missing/broken teeth. And a seriously dead look in their eyes.
Apparently sleep deprivation is the worst thing for your appearance.
I hope having a baby doesn't have the same effect.
On the upside, the lack of booze and partying has gotta cancel out the sleep-dep uglies. Surely.
I found out I was pregnant a week before we met our friends for one last blowout in Ibiza. Needless to say, I had a very sedate time while they (and Matt) did their best to represent.
Pulling an all-nighter used to be followed by an endless sleep-in and several days of comfort behaviour - a comedy and macaroni cheese anyone? Now it's followed by another all-nighter, and another, and another. It turns out that four days of labour was actually a crash-course in sleep deprivation.
As I stumble into Mila's room at 6am, I glimpse myself in the hallstand mirror, looking disheveled, pale and dark-eyed, and instead of cowering in her cot, I am greeted by the most beatific smile from an impossibly fresh-faced baby (hang on a minute, weren't you up all night with me?). And I think of all the ways I love her.
No comments:
Post a Comment