To Sleep Perchance To Dream

It seems the older you get, a certain topic of conversation seems to become more and more frequent. Take a guess what it is. Well yeah, sex is always up there, and if you spend a lot of time on twitter, bacon and vodka are both talked to death. But there is one subject that I seem to talk about with everyone I know.

Sleep. Or the lack of it.

Even she has insomnia 

Does anyone really sleep anymore? I know I don't. On any given night, four and a half to five hours is the norm.  Six hours, that's like a mini-vacation. I cannot remember when was the last decade that I actually slept for eight hours. But more and more, conversations I have with friends and family begin with "How did you sleep?" And you know what, no one sleeps well.

This morning I woke up at three, tossed for forty-five minutes and jumped in the shower before four. Tried to catch another little nap after the shower, but no such luck. Once my mind starts thinking about how behind I am in this or that, well I may as well get up and start the day.

I love hearing the experts tell me how important it is for adults to get the proper amount of sleep, eight to eight and a half hours. Now, my day starts around five, for me to get that much sleep, I'd be hitting the sack at nine o'clock. Well now that's not gonna happen, so it's time to suck it up and accept the consequences. This week I think lack of sleep causes dementia, but I could be wrong... or demented.

It is now 8:37 and I'm getting sleepy. Maybe a nine o'clock curfew isn't too bad after all. Anyone wanna chat around four? See ya then.

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Waking The Dead Or Just Napping Like One

Before leaving for the weekend house, I stopped by to see my parents.  Now for those who haven't read any of the family type posts before, my dad is 87 and not quite the man he used to be.  Well, I walk in through the back door and there is my dad...his head hanging down, asleep at the kitchen table. At least I assumed he was asleep.

Mom was walking in from the living room and I walked past her as I headed to the basement to drop something off.  I mentioned to her that dad was asleep and the position he was in could not be good for the arthritis in his neck. Down in the basement I can hear my mother trying to wake my dad. "Hon...hon...hon." Now that has my attention, because I know she's got to be standing right next to him. I start moving quickly back up the stairs...really fearing the worst  As soon as I reach the kitchen...boom, those hibernating brain cells checked back into the present.  "What?" he says.  Scared the shit out of us, we say.

Now granted, of all the ways to exit this life...that would not have been a bad one...at least for him. It does however, make you realize just how quickly you can go poof.

It also makes you wonder just how dead you can look when you're alive. Or napping.