NAPS

Yesterday, I took two naps. Before yesterday, I don’t think I’ve taken two naps in twenty years.

Well, maybe in the car, but I try to limit it to when Tom is driving.

I was attempting to finish reading Life Sentences so I could bring it back to the library. First I sat reading in my chair in the living room—the same sentence five times. I couldn’t remember who the characters were. Was Calliope the police officer or the murderer?

My head kept nodding—bob, bob, bob, snrrrtt, bob, bob. Drool. Not attractive.

Then I thought maybe if I read in my office, I’d stay awake. Change of scenery and all.

The reading went better in my office—two whole chapters.

Pretty soon my forehead was plastered to page 267, and I couldn’t even remember reading page 266.

I finally gave in and closed my eyes.

In my own defense, we’d had a house guest for the past two nights so I stayed up way past my bedtime. Wa-a-a-y past. And then I had gotten up at my usual time in the morning.

Gotta have my seven or eight hours.

Then KONK—out like a light. A half hour later, I forced myself out of some bizarre dream about monkeys and ATM machines and woke up enough to finish the book, although I doubt if I could write a book report on it.

Like some pre-schooler or some old lady in the nursing home. Mid-afternoon naps. Nod, bob, snort, zzzzzzzz . . . .

Is this retirement great, or what?