TEN HOURS of sleep in the last 24, including 8.5 hours straight before waking at 5 a.m. Who is this stiff and aching guy plopped in the blue chair waiting for coffee? Wait, I need caffeine? Really?
So: Poisons are cleared from my brain, and what am I thinking? What should I do with a clear brain? “Clear away the clutter in this room!” Come on, that’s what I think normally. So, not much different, just clearer?
… (I write some thoughts to myself about books and audiobooks, and I write a poem. You saw the poem yesterday if you were here.) …
It takes a few minutes for the coffee to brew, and then, in a last flurry of gurgling, the pot is full of hot, dark brown water. Just a minute, I’ll be right back.
There. I haven’t even had a sip yet, but the world seems better already.
I am. I think that’s the biggest difference after a full night of sleep: I have a greater consciousness of being here. The fog has lifted more than usual, and certainly more than it had yesterday afternoon, when I drove home feeling drowsy and surrendered to the bed shortly after I came home, let the dog out and in, and took off my shoes. That accounts for the other 90 minutes of the above-mentioned 10 hours.
Resolved: Maybe I need to go to bed by 9 every night.
“Resolved: Maybe”? Do you hear yourself?
You are resolved or you are not. There is no maybe.