Today I was shattered. I had a late night, an early start (yesterday’s pre-coffee cheeriness had vanished; 6am saw me blearily wandering around the house pondering what to do with the toothbrush in my hand) and a long, looooong work day.
I was so tired that I could almost hear an angelic chorus as I turned my key in my front door at the end of the day. So I stumped up to my bedroom, plugged in, switched off, lay down, and…
… Fell asleep. I’m not sure whether to apologise or be impressed. There was the usual gentle introduction, some deep, woop-woop noises, and a suggestion that I try to focus on “pleasant thoughts”.
At this a series of images and sensations popped into my head, including
- A toddler’s hot, sticky palm (mine?) pressed against a cool window pane on a summer day.
- The nanosecond between starting to peel an orange, and the smell filling your nose.
- Dappled sunlight on grass.
And um, that’s it. My next memory is of the man saying “wake UP!” and me struggling into a sitting position.
Last year, after a very heavy night in Las Vegas, my friends and I slept for several hours then woke in the late afternoon to spend a very happy three hours ordering pizza and watching Batman Begins, before going back to sleep for the night.
That is how I feel now.
Except I have hot chocolate, not pizza.
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