It’s too early for this
During vacation, my alarm clock is in suspended animation. Don’t want to see it or hear it. Let daylight do its intended job. Alas, things are not always as simple as that. My sleep can be interrupted too easily by other “details”.
Let’s see; top of the pile would be children that have forgotten what bedtime is supposed to be. When someone gets home by the dawn’s early light, I should sigh in satisfaction and go right back to sleep. Doesn’t always happen, particularly if the refrigeration spelunking is done with sound and lights.
Then, there is the territorial habits of the dog. Seriously, I don’t care if the postal people are diligently clearing away accumulated snow from the landing in front of our SuperBox. The dog does, though. And she wants everybody to notice that she is alert and ready to repel boarders, even if the clock digit is so small that she can probably count it herself. Notice to her dogginess; we really don’t care about the guy with the snowshovel. Ditto for the paper delivery man. Ditto for the milk delivery man. Ditto for anyone else that passes in the street before I can read a book by sunlight.
Where were we? Oh yes, getting more sleep. I feel that the skill of sleeping in until suppertime, practiced for years in an earlier lifetime, has gone away. I’ve evolved into one of those grumpy old men that gets up early, goes to bed early and has forgotten how to party the night away. Even my children despair of my departed youth.
Well, it’s time to find a book to read before I fall asleep. Until tomorrow.
