If you find it hard to get out of bed in the morning, like me, then you suffer from Dysania.

But I think I suffer from what could be called selective Dysania.

Monday to Friday, when my alarm goes off at 7:10 am, disturbing what is occasionally a very interesting dream, I immediately turn homicidal and suicidal.

Homicidal, because I’m so angry that I have to get up I could murder someone and suicidal, because at least then I could enter an eternal sleep (ok it would probably be eternal hellfire but my brain isn’t thinking that clearly in the wee hours of the morning).

Even when I get a ridiculous amount of sleep, say 10 hours, it’s still the most excruciating thing to get up and go to work.

Now, let’s look at Saturday and Sunday mornings. Given the same amount of sleep (or less even), once my eyes have managed to break the shackles of the rheum (that’s the correct term for eye matter, I just looked it up) I somehow have the energy to catapult out of bed eager to seize the day, despite being overwhelmingly tired the whole week. The fact that I usually end up back in bed for the rest of the day is another matter entirely.

And to think, I’m just 29, so unless I get lucky and win the lottery or, you know, die, this is going to continue for a long time.