It occurred to me that at least once every single weekend over the last six weeks, I’ve had at least one night where I’ve stayed up past the threshold of “a long night,” and into the absurd hours of the day when everything seems to happen in a state of questionable reality. It’s in these nights that I feel like I’m pushing my physical limits at times, and there comes a point where the want for a place to lay down and close my eyes becomes the drive and motivation to finish up whatever it is I’m doing.
And god damn, do I feel tired thinking about it. The fatigue is actually probably because I’m getting fewer than the eight hours I like to get on weekend nights, and it’s actually making me think that I’m running myself a little too tired, I’m showing my age, or perhaps it’s a little bit of both.
Now some of the reasons for these crazy marathons of days are better than others, and ultimately I don’t have any regrets for any of them, but I certainly think it’s in my best interest if I can just find a weekend where I can sleep in my own bed and sleep until my body simply doesn’t want to be in a state of sleep anymore.
Because I don’t think it’s a great idea to have seen 5 and 6 and 7 a.m., before sleeping, as many times as I have over the last few weeks.