Today’s list was inspired by the temperature outside and a rare bout of insomnia.
Old Lady Things I Am Ready For Already
Bunny Slippers. Big fat pink ones.
A walk-in sit-down shower. Ok, I’m not really sold on the sit down part of that yet, but my knee does not like stepping over the side of the bath tub these days. And it’s not even a very high side. I’ll be wanting ramps instead of stairs soon. An elevator would be nice.
One of those robotic vacuum things that bangs around your furniture picking up dirt while you sit on the couch wishing it was less stupid and more thorough. But if I had one I would likely want to get a cat to ride around on it.
A bunch of flameless candles unlikely to burn the house down if left unattended. With a remote control. Might as well go all out.
A granny shawl. Actually two. One for my shoulders, one for my lap.
A personal shopper.
A personal masseuse.
A pool guy. And yes I know we don’t have a pool.
A tiny home. I watched a minimalist documentary. I think I could live that way. Probably have to give up the pool guy though.
Seriously right now I would settle for just some big ass warm and fuzzy slippers because my feet are freezing. And I am wearing thermal socks.
What kind of sleeper are you? Do you drop off like a stone and awaken refreshed, or do you need pitch black and silence to drift off to dream?
(I know this is yesterdays prompt, and I would have done it yesterday if I hadn’t needed to take so many naps. It’s the only sane way to spend a Monday.)
I am a marathon sleeper. If sleeping were an Olympic event I would be a high ranking favourite, a definite contender for the gold. I have been in training my entire life. When I was a baby my mother said her envious friends were sure she must be sedating me. She could plop me down on any flat surface while she visited and drank tea and I would stay happily passed out until it was time to bundle me up again and take me home. It was anyone’s guess what color my eyes were for several months because they were so rarely open.
I don’t remember ever being freaked out by bedtime as a child. Or as an adult either. So when I gave birth to a daughter who couldn’t seem to figure out how to sleep for more than four hours at a stretch until she was six months old, and then bumped it up to six hours between midnight and six a.m. until she was almost two – well that was enough to make me totally rethink the parenting thing, never mind my new zombie-like personality caused by sleep deprivation. She was the kind of kid who would jump up and down in the middle of the room and sing and dance to stay awake. After that I had a less confusing child who restored my faith in the existence of our family’s powerful sleep gene. I never loved my son so much as when he would look at me with his forlorn little face at the end of the day and say “Is it time to go to bed yet?”
Although pitch black silence is nice for inducing sleep, for me it’s not a necessary requirement. My grandma could fall asleep anywhere and so can I. A loud noise or the phone ringing or incessant and annoying snoring (not mentioning any names here) will wake me up easily enough, but if I’m not sufficiently rested I will be ridiculously cranky until you shut up and go away and leave me alone. Or give me coffee. That also works.
Maybe I was a raving insomniac in a past life and in this one I’m making up for all that lost sleep. Sleep is such a lovely thing. I don’t understand why we all don’t do more of it. Although I’ve heard there are people who would like to do that and can’t. That makes me feel like one of the lucky ones. It’s like my brain has an off switch triggered by simply closing my eyes. Is that a blessing or a curse? I don’t know. Maybe the mysteries of the universe can only be solved at 3 a.m., in which case I probably won’t be the one doing that.
But I’m sure this talent for dropping happily off into dreamland and staying there for hours has to be a true indicator of an untroubled mind, right?
Anyway, don’t think too hard about that. Just agree with me. You’ll sleep better.
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