I woke up this morning to lights still on.
Sneakers still on.
Fleece still on.
Street clothes still on.
I remember being tired and lying down on top of my bed.
That's it.
I wake up hours,
And I do mean hours,
Later,
Feeling a little disoriented
(Because, hey, some of the lights are still on)
But sooooo good.
My cold seems to be finally gone.
I am not coughing up a lung.
I am not suffering residual post-booster lethargy.
But I have zero idea as to when I dozed off.
I was reading,
And then . . .
I wasn't.
I got nothing done last night.
Nothing.
No Christmas gifts wrapped,
No candles lit,
No tree plugged in.
The shades are closed, so there is that.
I hate when my body rebels against me,
But I appreciate that it had the good sense to take itself to bed.
Well, the top of the bed, deep into the pile of pillows.
Here's to Christmas overdrive and general exhaustion!
Here's to autopilot regeneration!
May all of your bodies shut themselves down when you truly need it.
By the way, it isn't even the ass-crack of dawn yet.
Anyone up for a Christmas game?
Seriously, folks -- take care of yourselves.
Thirteen days to go.
