It's been a busy week, with some nights of fitful sleep. (When I know I'm going to have to get up earlier than usual, often I just wake up repeatedly at gradually less ridiculous hours, because I'm worried I'm going to miss the time I actually need to wake up. "Is it time yet? Can't be late! No, it's 2:30. OK. Go back to sleep. Is it time yet? Can't be late! No, it's 3:28." And so on.)
So anyway, here it was Friday night, a long and busy day behind me, yawning with weariness, and darn it, I am going to sleep forever on Saturday!
So I woke up at 8:30. Which granted is two hours later than I usually get up, but it's not late. Not like I used to be able to sleep late. I blame the fact that I can really no longer stay awake very late unless there's a darn good reason.
In college I'd still be up at 2 in the morning as a matter of course. On weekends I might not go to bed until dawn. So naturally I could then easily sleep until 3 in the afternoon.
I don't usually do that anymore.
I also blame the fact that when I woke up at 8:30 I was starving. There was no chance of going back to sleep when my stomach was shouting at me in apoplectic rage.
"What in the hell are you playing at?! Usually at this time of day we've had two full meals and three tasty snacks!* We're running on empty down here! Do you want me to cut off the glucose supply to your precious brain?! DO YOU?!"
Fine. I accept that I'm all grown up and old, and I need structure and routine. I got up and had ice cream for breakfast. That shut the stomach right up.
*My stomach is exaggerating. Usually by 8:30 I've had one meal, and at most two tasty snacks.
1 comment:
the stomach is a terrible thing to waste!
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