I knew a boy who once told me that he didn't like to go to bed at all—that time spent sleeping was time spent wasting this precious life. But I always felt insomniacs had their own issues. And I never had trouble falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Sleep allows me to think clearly, and to dream. And to focus, Breeze.
But for some reason, as night falls earlier and earlier, I want to stay up later too. I have a new-found nervous energy buzzing around my brain well past eleven o'clock. (See? It's already a quarter to midnight and I'm wide awake.) I'm more productive then, it seems. Or maybe it just takes me that long to decompress after crazy work. Or maybe there's a nagging feeling keeping me up: is there something I should be doing before I go to bed? What am I forgetting?
I'm not complaining; I like having this late-nite energy. It's how I get things done. (Mummy, do I get this from you? Will I too be staying up till the crack of dawn making figgy pudding on Christmas Eve or knitting socks for the little babe?)
But the problem is: late to bed, late to rise. Daybreak surely comes too soon. And then I'm foggy till noon.
This morning, I woke up an hour late, and yet I still lay in bed wasting time, wishing: I wish it were still the weekend and we were back on Cape Cod, back in the old mansion with a dozen rooms and as many loos and a bocce court in the yard. I wish we were still dancing with friends, meeting new ones, celebrating Mark & Kathleen's wedding. Beautiful bride, perfect party, waltzing with my boy, fabulous friends till the end. No worries, but for the rain pitter pattering on the grass. Bay breezes and dancing, dancing, disco dancing. I wish, I wish...
I finally made it to work an hour late. But I stayed even later than that on the other end of the day. And now I'm back in the same boat. Late home, late to dine, late to bed.
What are these nerves? What is this nervous energy? I think I know...