‘I am a confirmed snoozelbugger’: Fran Whiting on her new favourite word

I now realise I have been a confirmed snoozelbugger for much of my life, but only now have realised it, writes Frances Whiting.

Thank you so much for your lovely letters following my column about becoming a morning person. From watching dawn break over Sorrento Beach on the Mornington Peninsula to walking The Gap’s leafy streets in Brisbane with a chorus of raucous kookaburras overhead, it was great to armchair travel all over Australia reading your words.

But I want to thank one reader, Margaret, in particular, who not only shared her morning routine with me, but also introduced me to a brand new, albeit made-up word, which in turn gave me an idea for this column so I now love Margaret, who I have never met, with all my heart.

Frances Whiting. Picture: David Kelly

Margaret wrote of how she would love to be a full-time morning person, but only manages it for a few weeks at a time before she is back to – and I do quote – “snoozelbugging in bed for another hour to arise and shine”.

Snoozelbugging? Margaret, you are a genius! This is exactly the right word for when you are snuggling under the covers, knowing you should get up, but cannot because you are too damn comfortable and cosy.

I now realise I too, have been a confirmed snoozelbugger for much of my life, but only now, thanks to Margaret, have realised it.

Now, Margaret’s letter got me thinking about other words that are not real, but should be.

Every now and again I come across these words, and try to share them around as much as I can, in the hope that they will enter both the vernacular and the dictionary.

Here’s a small sample – a samplet, if you like.

Destinesia: When you arrive at your destination, but are unsure why you went there. This often happens to me just walking from one room to another in my own home.

Vellichor: The strange wistfulness of second-hand bookshops – this from the excellent book, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig, a wonderful collection of whimsical made-up words – Koenig’s book also includes the rather marvellous “sonder”. Sonder is the realisation that every single person is living their own lives, with their own friends, and families, loves and dramas that we know nothing about – and most of us remember the first time we were struck by it.

For me, it was the time I saw my Grade One teacher at the supermarket. Not in the classroom where up to that point I thought she lived. With our class guinea pig, Mr Snuffles.

Acrapella:Like a cappella, but with bad singers.

Pregret: To regret something even before you do it because you know damn well it is wrong, but you also know you are going to do it anyway. Basically, the state of your entire twenties.

Some of my favourite words are not made up, but particular to their country of origin. One of my favourites is the Hawaiian “Akihi”, which when translated means when you ask someone for directions, walk off, then immediately forget what they told you.

My own, personal Akihi, however, kicks in when the waiter lists the specials, I listen attentively, nod my head knowledgeably, and then the moment they leave, ask my friends “What did
they say?”

Anyway, please send me your made-up words – although I think we can all agree it will be difficult to beat snoozelbugging.