In a rare occurrence, I actually got to bed at a reasonable hour recently -- about 10:15 or so. Gettting up at my usual time would give me about seven hours of sleep, a good, reasonable number.
As I pondered this, I realized that I suffer from a genetic disorder; I'm not sure what it's called, and maybe I'll name it and somehow make money off its study and treatment. It's hard to believe there's anything in this world that is undiscovered anymore, however, so perhaps I should google this condition first.
I'm afraid my genetic makeup is such that I don't generally get much sleep. My father was an early bird -- up by 5:30, asleep by 9:30 or 10. My mother slept late when she could, and was always the last one to go to sleep, due to her habit of staying up until the wee hours, either reading or writing or both, I suppose, smoking her high-tar Tareyton cigarettes, with the two red racing stripes on the white package, as distinctive a brand in my childhood memory as there is.
Mom slept in at every opportunity. On those days, it was my dad who got us fedand ready for school. He made us good breakfasts and always woke us up with a very cold glass of orange juice.
Somehow I've managed to inherit both sets of genes from them. So my inclination is to stay up late and to get up early. It's a struggle for me to get into bed by ten, and itt's difficult to get up after seven-thirty -- even on the weekend.
In a word . . . I'm screwy. And I'm sleepy. Okay, two words. This is my new (school) year resolution -- to get to bed by 10 or 10:30 every weeknight, and to wake up refreshed and ready to go the next morning. (Why, then, do I feel so exhausted?)
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