Looking out, shortly after 10.00AM, onto our mizzly grey enveloped garden, my eyelids struggle to leave the eyes unveiled. A sense of shock and wonder accompanies the realization that I have been passively active for well over two hours. A slow release from slumber-dom is usually under way at this early hour but, this morning, my beloved chauffeured me down for an appointment with my doctor a couple of hours ago and onwards to the hospital for further blood tests.
My body tells me that it should be resting, whilst the cerebral component assures me that I’d have been contemplating my emergence from the duvet realm by this time anyway, had my routine not been so brutally disrupted. Whilst once Malcolm, the night-owl, thrived on a minimal amount of sleep and bed-rest, though always a reluctant lark, the habits of the sloth have now imposed themselves upon my being. I quite simply no longer have the stamina, physical or emotional, to burn the midnight oil; simultaneously, come morning, I take far longer to enter the realms of the awake. Seldom, if ever, do I attain the giddy heights of the wide-awake!
The question is, how do I make the most of this morning’s extra hours? My body hoarsely whispers, “a few cat-naps wouldn’t go amiss”, a sentiment with which my spirit concurs.
A further blog posting for today, Those Old Grey and Green Blues, has been posted on ‘The Word of Sinna Luvva’.