The Couch Got Me

Yesterday was tough, the getting back into the school routine, the adjusting all my internal clocks to the external realities of time zones, time shifts, and early morning alarms.  I had slept too little and worked too long by the time I'd gone in early to deal with whatever was waiting on me after a three-day absence and then stayed over late to tutor after school, and with an added trip to the funeral home on top of that, something that is always exceptionally difficult for me, I hardly knew where I was when I got home.

I microwaved something forgettable, paired it with pickle chips (which may be responsible for the dreams I had later), ate, and I think I was watching Top Gear when the couch got me.  I don't really remember.  Suddenly, I jerked awake, and amazingly enough Top Gear was still on.   Different shouty cars were being maxed out, but it was still Hammond, May, and Clarkson.  (Just how much TG DOES BBCA show on Mondays?  Wow.)  It was almost midnight.  Groggily, I forced myself off the couch, staggered around through my nightly routine of crating dogs, taking care of teeth and meds and pajamas and so on, and fell down again into the waiting arms of my own sweet bed.  I was unconscious almost before I got my iPhone into its dock.

Yeah.  So.  I guess sleep needs to be a priority and not an afterthough, huh?  When my body has had enough, it will just get me close to a flat surface and flip that off switch.