I slept in today.
I didn’t go to bed particularly late last night… say, around 11pm, which is pretty normal for me.
And then I didn’t wake up until twelve hours later. And, to be completely honest… I could’ve stayed in bed. I almost did. The thing that dragged me out of my warm, comfortable bed was the knowledge that I would get to write today and I didn’t want to have to start doing that after dinner.
It’s a hard feeling to quantify. Like, I’m not tired right now, but I could totally go back to sleep given the opportunity. Everything is sort of… baseline sore and tired? Just always tired.
Maybe in a past life I was a cat. They seem to be very happy always sleeping, and maybe I would be too, given the opportunity? But no, a few hundred million years ago some fish crawled out of the ocean and so now I have a mortgage to pay.
Life is weird, folks.
Hope everyone out there is staying safe and healthy!