Somehow I’ve managed, over the course of the last two weeks or so, to turn day and night completely around. This isn’t the old story about me being a night person who likes to sleep late. This is about being awake through the night and not being able to stay awake during the day. So I don’t think it’s that other thing, although it sounds awfully like it.
Anyway, last night was as bad as it gets, so I’m hoping it gets better. It would seem to have to, by definition. I had fallen asleep several times during the day yesterday, but when it came time to retire for the night, I found I just couldn’t. Eventually, about 4 am, I fell asleep in the recliner. An hour and a half later, I woke up and was just about to get into bed. But then I thought: why muss up the bed when it’s already tomorrow?
So I pulled my heavy robe around me, found a soft pillow, and stretched out on the sofa. The plan, if what was plodding through my mind could be called anything as grandiose as a plan, was to sleep there for a couple of hours, and then get up and start the day at what the rest of the world considers a decent hour.
That didn’t happen. Instead, I slept until well past 11:00 am. Even with all that sleep, the whole Saturday felt like night to my leaden eyes, and I accomplished nothing. Well, one thing. I finished the book I’ve been reading. I would have finished it earlier in the week, if only I could have stayed awake. Fortunately, the last few chapters of a well-written mystery can be riveting enough to keep even someone with no concept of day or night from nodding off. |