Friday, March 12, 2010

To Sleep; To Wake

I have a hard time going to bed.  I have a hard time getting up.

It is 11:56 pm.  My husband and I are people of routine, generally speaking, and our bedtime is 11:00pm.  At that time this evening, we were mixing cocktails while enwrapped in a conversation about teaching math to twelve-year-olds (don't ask).  We are now side-by-side on the couch, each with our respective macbook on our laps, doing general internet research for our careers.  He's looking for travel deals for his impending tour with his band.  I'm submitting for acting jobs (the life of an unrepresented actor or musician is largely administrative).

Anyway, the clock just ticked over to 12:00 midnight, and I just don't feel like going to bed.  There is so much I could get done, if I didn't go to bed.  So much administration to administrate if I didn't go to bed.

But then I'd be above-average tired in the morning.

I'm always tired in the mornings.  So very tired, whether I get eight hours of sleep, or six or nine.  Doesn't matter.  The warmth of the covers, the comfort of the pillow, I hate having to give them up.  In the morning, any hour of the mid morning, is when I get my best, most restful sleep.  Waking up is a real pain, and I never feel like doing it.  There's so much sleeping I could be doing, if I didn't get up.  So many dreams to have, if I didn't get up.

But then I wouldn't get anything done.

And then none of my dreams would matter.

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