Saturday, January 11, 2014


For years my life was marked/measured by the days, their events and circumstances, by work or by play, and by the emotional and mental conditions of the day.  But recently a strange transition seems to be occurring; the days are taking on an increasing sameness, while the nights are becoming unique.  How many times will I wake up because my shoulders hurt or I have to pee?  Will one of the dogs have to go out?   Will Patience poke me and tell me to roll over because I’m snoring?  Sometimes I wake up on my own and find that I am wide-awake at 3 A.M.  I may eventually fall back to sleep, or get up and go into my study and read or listen to music.  Or it might be a dream, one of the occasional profound dreams from which I awake, and then return to that intermediate state between awakeness and sleep, not knowing if I am consciously continuing the dream or not.

While the days are becoming predictable and, for the most part, under my control, the nights are just the opposite, and I approach them wondering what they have in store for me.

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