caerula's Diaryland Diary

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Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care...

It must be a law of nature or something, because it never fails. Mornings I have to get up and go to work, I�d sell my soul for another hour of sleep. But when I�m all prepped to sleep in, I�m up bright and early and completely unable to go back to sleep. The raveled sleeve of care, indeed. Sigh.

I keep having dreams about mazes, and endless stairs, and being caught up in a crowd, not able to change direction. Seriously. Gee, let�s take a moment to psychoanalyze that. What could my subconscious possibly be trying to tell me? It�s not usually quite so direct as this.

And for some completely incomprehensible reason, I woke up with the chorus from Paul Simon�s "Kodachrome" in my head. Don�t know when the last time was I heard that song.

Miss Charlotte is sitting here next to me staring out the window. She has been sitting there motionless for several minutes. Except the blinds are closed. That kitty is several fries short of a Happy Meal, I tell you.

Blah. My foot is asleep. I hate that. Especially when the rest of me is not asleep.

It�s funny. Does anyone ever actually believe their parents when they tell you that when you get older you�ll appreciate sleep? I�m sure I didn�t. My dad worked afternoons or midnights when I was little, and I can remember us completely not understanding why he needed to sleep during the day. I cringe to think how little sleep we actually allowed him when we kids were home on vacations or whatever. When did sleep become such a precious commodity? Not in high school � we�d go out to the movies or whatever on school nights with no thought to getting up at 6 the next morning. Same thing in college, except then of course it was hitting the bars, or staying up til 3 to finish a term paper.

Now � gah. The thought of staying up until 3 in the morning and being functional at 8 am is horrible.

I must be getting old.

7:43 a.m. - April 03, 2002

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