Get It?

What Do You Do in Bed?

Eat? Have sex? Chat? Pick your nose? Surf? Watch TV? Sleep?

Modern beds have become multi-tasking action stations and it's ruining our health. That's if you believe the current thinking of ‘those in the know.' Sleep scientists are on a mission to change our nocturnal habits. The medical profession wants us to start sleeping in separate beds. The miserable killjoys say it is bad for our health. New guidelines state that shared beds should be reserved for sexual congress alone. If we want to sleep, we should make our way to our own bedrooms down the hall. We can still have sex (that's a relief) but afterwards, we should sleep apart. That way we will be far better rested and a lot healthier.

It sounds like being a student.

Are we supposed to be surprised when new research shows that you are 50 per cent more likely to have disturbed sleep if you share a bed? I don't know how much money was spent on this research, but I could have told them that for free.

As a woman who has shared a bed with the same man for quite some time, I feel able to offer some insights on this topic. I am not going to lie for comic effect and tell you that my husband is a snoring, farting, twitching ogre who screams in his sleep - he's not. If he were, we'd be divorced by now.

But I know a little about sleep problems:

Kicking: I once knew a woman whose boyfriend would regularly kick her in his sleep - it got to be quite a problem. He swore he was asleep and didn't mean to do it. She got fed up with it and kicked him out in the end.

Duvet-hogging: This can be really annoying. If you're not careful it can escalate into a full scale war and one or both of you can end up on the floor.

Sleep talking: This is the one that disturbs me the most. Because you just have to listen, don't you? You are on alert for your name being mentioned...or, God forbid, someone else's.

Sleep walking: I‘ve heard the problem is aggravated if you have an attractive live-in nanny.

Nightmares: These can be alarming or amusing - depends if you are the one asleep or awake.

All these irritants conspire to prevent you getting a good night's sleep. The serious guys in the white coats tell us poor sleep can be linked to depression, heart disease, strokes, traffic and industrial accidents and divorce - and yet it is still ignored as an important health issue.

Shared beds are a recent historical development. In the industrial revolution, when towns and cities became overcrowded, bed sharing became the norm. Before the Victorian era, it was usual for couples to sleep separately, meeting in the ‘conjugal chamber' for a bit of hanky panky when the mood took them.

Those well known hedonists the ancient Romans would have laughed at the notion of sleeping together in a bed. A bed was for fornication, orgies, sexual depravity of the highest order....not for a snooze.  

I'm sure that bed-makers, architects, and linen manufacturers, would all welcome the return to separate sleeping arrangements, and the money making bonanza that would follow. But in practical terms, who really has the room for separate sleeping quarters? What are you going to do? Throw all the kids together in one room? Like that's really going to improve your night's sleep.

But I think there's another more subtle but no less fatal flaw in the plan of the Sleep Nazis. Advising us to return to our separate rooms after sex is fine in theory, but in practice, how would it function? It is well known that the male of the species is programmed to fall asleep instantly post ejaculation. He won't be going anywhere in a hurry...and I'm not going to freeze my tits off running back to my room.

Hmmmm, I think the sleeping revolution may be a long time coming.

Driving Miss Crazy

Feeling deflated?

You are driving along an empty road at twilight. You have your main beams on, because out in the countryside, this is when the animals come out to play. The local boars are thick skinned and solid - they can really mash up your paintwork.

You are running late. A quick glimpse at the clock tells you it's nearly eight pm.

Then ‘BANG!' Something collides with the front of the car.

You pull over and sit for a moment, your pulse racing. Outside there's a noise. Something is dragging itself off into the undergrowth. You peer out, but it's too dark to see.

After a minute you step out of the car. There is mud and something else on the front wing...blood. And the tyre is crumpled and flat.

Shit.

This is wilderness country. No mobile phone coverage. No comforting roadside points connecting you directly to assistance. Just nothingness full of eyes. Watching you silently.

What to do?

First of all, don't panic. Crikey, it's only a matter of changing the wheel. Men exploit our ignorance of these issues and pretend it's really difficult.

It isn't.

The feisty readers of Powder Room Graffiti can probably effect a multi-wheel change in their sleep. But in the unlikely event that you are a flat-tyre virgin, it's good to know the basics. And wouldn't you prefer to hear it from me than a patronising, eye-rolling petrolhead? Of course you would.

Step one: Park on level ground. Look at yourself in the rear-view mirror and recite the grease monkey prayer: 'In my hands, all cars are blessed.'

Step two: Apply the handbrake. Put car in first gear/ drive. This gives extra protection from the car rolling away...which, let's face it, would only add to your problems right now.

Step three: Stop looking wistfully up and down the road - this is your problem and you are going to fix it, girlfriend.

Step four: Ignore the grunting sound coming from the undergrowth. In times of stress I find there is comfort to be had singing the Scooby Doo theme tune. But do whatever works for you. Swearing like a navvy is good.

Step five: Locate spare wheel. Now, I almost became unstuck here. I couldn't find it for ages. Eventually, through tears of frustration I glimpsed the fucker hiding in a cavernous well, below the boot. Spare wheels are also located underneath the car, and on the back door (but that is kind of unmissable).

Step six: Locate the wheel brace/cross wrench/lug wrench in tool box, slacken off the wheel nuts. The wheel brace is the long, spanner like tool and the nuts are the big bolts that hold the wheel in place. They'll be very stiff and hard to budge, so stand on the brace putting your whole weight onto it, and jump up and down a bit till you feel them turn. You'll look silly, but only a few owls and a couple of rabbits will see - and they're surprisingly forgiving creatures.

Step seven: Stop worrying about breaking your chuffing nails.

Step eight: Take the jack (lifting device) from tool box and locate the jacking point close to the wheel you are about to remove. There are four jack points on a car (four wheels, you see? Simple). This stuff really isn't rocket science. It's more difficult assembling a fondue set.

Step nine: Jack up the car - turning the lever will slowly lift the wheel so it is no longer touching the ground. This bit is very empowering - look what I just did? I lifted the car off the ground! All by myself! Grrrr.

Step ten: Undo previously loosened wheel nuts - take wheel off. It will be heavy, so be prepared. A slipped disc right now would be a bummer.

Step eleven: Wipe unpleasant brown marks off your hands and clothes and don't dwell on their organic make up.

Step twelve: Put new wheel on - replace wheel nuts. Once wheel is lowered to ground, fully tighten nuts - yes, you can jump on the brace again if you like.

Step thirteen: Dance a little 'I am so brilliant, I am the car crisis queen' jig of congratulation. Set off for home.

Step fourteen: Stop car again. Er, remember to remove jack before driving off in future.

Last step: Return home ready to enjoy the look on his face as you nonchalantly announce...'Sorry I'm late, darling. I clipped a boar and had to change a tyre. What's for supper?'