Miracle Monday

Today was the first work day that involved the DST change but I didn't have a tough go of it at all. And I'm pretty sure D is the person to thank here.

Since his body clock was a bit off from his work schedule and he was fighting the heavy eyelids, he went to bed super early for a Saturday night - 10:30! Suffering succotash! - and I went along for company, I guess. Miraculously, I slept until morning with only a teensy break (woke up, tossed and turned for a while) so I'd say I was tired, too. When I finally got out of bed at 9:30, I felt weirdly peaceful and energized. As if my Dead Space space suit health meter had completely refilled with neon green goo. I was ready for the mutant zombies. Here, kitty kitty.

Just 5 more minutes

Sometimes I forget how progressively sleep deprived I become by getting an average of 6.5 hours of shuteye a night for a week. That amount is usually self-imposed: I like to stay up late and do. I do not like to rise at 6:30 for most reasons but especially for bussing to the wilds of Gatineau for a job.

Weekends are the best time (I can hear my mother's voice here) to pay down the ol' sleep debt so as to avoid sub-prime depression and stay on the good side of health banks, but they are also the best time to see friends, watch films and have fun...by staying up late, of course!

So following a late Saturday night, I doze until 1:30 on Sunday, then can't sleep Sunday night...it's an entropic snowball that can leave me staring up at the start of a demanding work week feeling weaker than I had when I polished off the last week.

Not so today. I went to bed shockingly early last night. Still not pleased by the screeching chimes of clocks in the morning, but I can suffer my way out of bed much easier after a decent rest, and on to busses without an undignified amount of swearing.

Merely a dignified amount.