At 8:30 this morning, I rolled over and looked at the clock next to my bed. It seemed both earlier and later than 8:30. At the same time, somehow.
It seemed much later than an 8:30 on Monday morning usually feels, because Iíd been in and out of consciousness for so many hours. Thinking about how the day was going to go, with one phone line not working, had kept me awake part of the night, and it made me a little more aware of the passage of time than usual. If I could harness that nervous energy and get up and around earlier in the mornings, I might be better off. But Iíd be half dead by mid afternoon.
At the same time (as I might have mentioned), it seemed much earlier than 8:30 on Monday morning should feel, because I hadnít had enough of that restful kind of sleep that I never get enough of. I hadnít even fully surfaced yet, and I was already dragging. Somehow I made it to 6:00 pm before totally collapsing into the recliner, and I hardly moved for the next two hours. Thereís a routine that my body is comfortable with, and it was all off today.