Four hours isn’t so bad…

Six hours isn’t so bad… Five hours isn’t so bad… Four hours isn’t so bad…

Tim and I used to quote that commercial (for some kind of sleep aid) to each other, because inevitably, if either of us has to be anywhere early in the morning, we spend a sleepless night staring at the clock and counting down the hours of sleep we’ll be getting. Last night, for me, it was three and a half. I’ll be in zombie state by the afternoon.

Originally, I was supposed to be on a beach in Florida this week, and my house was supposed to be getting a little bit of a makeover. But the best laid plans… Instead, I’ll be taking care of an entirely different kind of business and setting myself up so that I can be under even more pressure over the following three weeks to meet my writing deadlines. We’ll see how that works out. Hopefully, I’ll get more than four hours of sleep a night the rest of this week. Probably I shouldn’t have had those last three glasses of water before bedtime…

For Monday, I leave you with this:

The true artist declares himself by leaving out a lot. The artist alone sees spirits. But after he has told of their appearing to him, everybody sees them.
Goethe


This is a small John Lennon statue in a shop window on Montrose. Right now, John Lennon is the spirit I’m seeing. (Not literally.)

5 thoughts on “Four hours isn’t so bad…”

  1. I didn’t sleep well myself last night. I know what you mean about staring at the clock the night before you have to be somewhere. That always seems to happen the night before a new semester starts.

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