From a combination of staying up too late, being pretty much on-the-go again this week, and spending four hours this morning raking and weeding in the Orem cemetery, I was exceedingly tired this afternoon and evening. Alas, I could not give in to my desires and even take a power nap, because again I was kept kind of busy and I knew that napping late in the afternoon would severely weaken my chances of a good night's sleep tonight. Oh, well. That just means I'll sleep really well tonight. I hope. Heaven knows I hardly even remember turning off my lamp last night.
Garfield has it right.
Whatever happened to the days that I could stay up until or past midnight with the greatest of ease? Or at least could do so without feeling like I was going to collapse from exhaustion the next day. My, ahem, ... older ... readers may scoff, but this is one habit in which I can tell I'm getting old. I want to go to bed at a decent hour. I want to get a good night's rest. I want a steady bedtime. In some ways, I would love to be three years old again and take a nap in the middle of the afternoon. And I know several people who would gladly stand up with me in agreement (or lie down with a blanket, as the case may be). Which brings us back to the opening question: why don't we have siestas? Just food for thought.
I'd love to think that I'll be able to catch up on sleep this weekend. That won't happen. I'm going camping with my roommates, and despite my best efforts, I never sleep my best in a tent. I sleep, but never as much as I need to. Give me a real mattress any day. Don't get me wrong; I'm looking forward to the trip. It'll be great fun. I'll just really miss my mattress. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.
"When I woke up this morning my girlfriend asked me, 'Did you sleep good?' I said, 'No. I made a few mistakes.'" -Steven Wright