I was up later than normal last night, for a nice reason -- a nice, long, funny and revealing chat with a neighbor and her boyfriend, one of those rambling chats kind of like what you have in college, the three of us sitting or standing on the back steps of the apartment building enjoying the breeze -- and I went to bed telling myself that it would be okay to sleep in. My body's overly well-trained, though, to wake up around 5 a.m. (partly so I can take care of bathroom duties; is that putting it vaguely enough?), and usually I then have trouble going back to sleep, and I knew that that amount of sleep I'd be getting under those circumstances wouldn't be enough.
I even had to tell myself not to get up just to watch a Sunday morning show I like to watch, which runs from 6:30 to 7. I can get overly spastic about that: I have a chance to see it I have a chance to see it I should wake up in time to see it (oy this is embarrassing). So I was vaguely awake from, I guess, 5:30-ish to about quarter aftr six, drifting in and out, hoping I'd drift back into sleep, then closing my eyes and reopening them and seeing the clock say 8:30. Meaning I'd gotten back to sleep.
YES. A couple hours more shuteye. This was needed. This may also have inspired a boring journal entry, but sleep is very important to me, so *I* don't find this boring.
Good day, y'all!