I'm still trying to get my sleep pattern back into rhythm following February break and a quick, unscheduled run to Charlotte, NC. I am failing badly. I'm sort of back into my regular semi-insomniac ways, but I am still vacillating between afternoon drowsiness and late night wakefulness.
A quick wine tasting is followed by a stop at the brewery near my house. I am fine until about halfway through my first (and only) beer. It's only 5:00, and suddenly I need sleep. Apparently, my body believes that it's bed time.
I make it through dinner (pizza) and the Bruins-Montreal game (an early one), but by 7:45, I am anxious for a time that is acceptable to call bedtime. Saturday night, and I'm like an old lady. It's dark out, so it must be time to get into my pajamas and go to bed.
Maybe I'll read a book or something. I mean, now that OT is over and the Bruins have won, I can call it a night, right? Hey, go easy on me. I'm old ... or feel that way sometimes, that's for sure.
