Wow. I rarely nap, but I feel like I've just woken from hibernation. This morning
I bought a hot/cold pad, and I heated that up, then held against various sore back
and shoulder muscles. It must be full of buckwheat or something similar, from the
smell. I don't know if it was the smell or the soothing heat, the book I was
reading about life in the Arctic, or just fatigue from
href="http://dichroic.diaryland.com/cocoa.html">this morning, but I zonked
out. Even though I was on the loveseat, I slept so deeply that when I woke up it
took me a minute to realize who, where, and when I was.
Perhaps it's
because I sleep so rarely in the daytime, that when I do I tend to wake up
disoriented. Lately, though, even when I wake in the middle of the night, as I
almost always do, I keep to have lost the sense of how long I've slept. I have to
look at a clock or my watch to see whether I can go back to sleep for more
blissfully long hours in MorpheusÕ embrace, or whether I should be dreading the
alarm in too short a time. I love waking at midnight or so to find I can go back
to sleep for luxurious hours; I hate it when I wake up half an hour before the
alarm goes off and it's not worth going back to sleep. I sympathize entirely with
Valancy, in L.M. Montgomery's best book, The Blue Castle, who almost
counted that night wasted when she did not wake at least once, to gloat over the
night and the moonlight, her cabin and her freedom and (especially) Barney
sleeping beside her. (That was the passage that told me Montgomery intended this
one for adults: I doubt the mores of her time would let her discuss a woman
sharing a bed with a man, even though she was married to him.)
I've
been unemployed too long. I'm losing my focus and my motivation. I trail through
the house, meaning to do one chore then getting sidetracked by another. I spend
half the day on the computer and the other half reading a book. I've gotten
nothing done all week on my book project, even though I need to hurry before
someone else gets the same idea, and even though all I have left to do is some
internet research and working up some sample pages.
Today has been
punctuated by episodes of falling food. As I was unpacking groceries this morning,
I knocked over a small bottle of Gatorade and the lid cracked. Less than half of
it poured out, but now I can't seem to get the floor to stop being sticky. Just
now, as I was rummaging about in the fridge, I knocked over a container of yogurt,
which fell onto the floor and cracked. Again. Luckily, because of the consistency
and the small cracks, not much oozed out this time. Maybe it's a good thing I'll
be spending the weekend out where there's not much to spill.