Anyone tempted to believe those scientists who claim that the eight-hour sleep is a myth should come and see me at 7am on a weekday morning.
It’s never a pretty sight, but that’s especially true if my slumber has been disturbed.
Those who kip next to a snorer will know that there’s nothing like a broken night of patchy shut-eye to really ruin your day.
And all new parents know that welcoming a little darling into the world scuppers your ability to reach the magic eight hours for at least the first few months.
But all new wives should also be made to understand that saying ‘I do’ can have a seriously damaging impact on their ability to get enough sleep.
Men frequently question why their wives are a little naggy. Come on chaps, it’s often because your nocturnal noises have kept us awake at some point.
Personally, I take rather a vengeful view to being woken in the night.
If my husband gets home late from a night of playing snooker and drinking sambuca, I know I can wave bye-bye to those eight hours of bliss that the scientists say I don’t need.
Of course, two can play at that game and if I don’t need my beauty sleep, he sure as heck isn’t going to get enough either.
Sharpening the elbows for a spot of late-night bloke baiting can be a right old laugh at 2am.
Well, it beats counting sheep.
There’s a reason why we sleep for eight hours – it’s really, really, nice.
Spending research grants on trying to disprove that fact is a monumental waste of money.
If anything, we should be campaigning for more sleep, not less of it.
During the winter we should go into enforced hibernation.
At the very least it would spare our brains from rotting away due to over-exposure to truly rubbish reality TV.
And in the summer we should take a more Mediterranean approach to living, ignoring the fact that our economy is on the slide to enjoy Spanish-style siestas.
We might not be filthy rich, but I’d trade a few pounds for a bag-free face like Penelope Cruz’s any day of the week.