I made spaghetti for supper last night. The wife was doing laundry while I cleaned up the dishes and washed the pans. A quick rain storm passed by herded along by a couple of claps of thunder, just when I thought about sitting out on the patio. Instead I turned on the baseball game, half watching, half reading. Then it became half watching and half dozing.
The good guys lost and I flipped over to local news. I picked up my book when I should have gone to bed. The next thing I know, I have been reading for an hour and a half. It is past one in the morning and I am arguing with myself about reading a few more pages or hitting the rack. Sensible won. I should have listened to my brain and headed for bed at eleven. In my youth I routinely ran on about 5 hours of sleep, usually because I stayed up into the wee hours reading. I can't do it anymore. Why do I try?
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Interestingly enough, when I was younger I could never get enough sleep. Today, I can get by on 6 or 7 hours, and just crash hard once in a while -- like once every week or two. The CPAP has helped a lot with that, admittedly; I needed more sleep because I wasn't getting quality sleep.
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