Mixed days & nights
In my younger days, when a baby was crying or fussing repeatedly, no one wished to admit their little tax exemption was spoiled rotten. It was commonly stated that he / she was either sleepy, cutting teeth, or had their days and nights mixed up.
Since I am on the far side of Medicare, I cannot claim that cutting teeth is responsible for my unruly demeanor. However, it is a well known fact that I do not have to be rocked, or sung to, in order to fall into a deep slumber. In fact, all that is required is a soft recliner, a good book, and possibly a sermon, to put me out like a light.
Gone are the days when I could sit and stare at a Television set until the station signed off for the night and still have to read before sleep would end my day. Waking was another story. An alarm loud enough to wake the dead would rouse me enough to stagger into the bathroom to begin my workday.
Then came the retirement years that I had been waiting for and this changed my lifestyle dramatically. I had worked an early schedule, (05:30 a.m. ’til 2:30 p,m.) for years, therefore I had been unable to sleep-in. During this period, the vast majority of my wife’s and my conversations were held via post-it notes attached to the Refrigerator or the coffee maker.
Several of my friends and co-workers retired from the workforce before I was eligible and I inquired of them as to how long it would be before sleeping-in would come naturally. “A Week;” “Ten days:” “A Month;” was the usual answer.
I believed them, but my frail body and weak mind had other designs on my retirement lifestyle. The evening meal along with the sign-off of the early news, was all that was necessary for me to be unable to keep my eyes open.
Alas: The worse part is yet to come. Awakening in a dark bedroom and glancing at the red numbers on the digital clock that announces the time as 02:30 in the morning startled me at first. Then it became a routine to arise, and to read the Obituary Column in the morning paper. If I do not find my name listed there, I proceed to put the coffee on.
I have repeatedly attempted to get back under the covers for a short nap only to literally “wear the bed out.” by rolling and tumbling.
Since I cannot blame cutting teeth as the reason for my constant, unruly, deportment, I suppose that I can pick one of the other excuses as the cause. Okay: Here goes.
It is a known fact that for a total of nineteen years; Old Demijon has been either sleepy, or has “gotten his days and nights mixed up!”
T.B. or not T.B. That is Congestion. Consumption be done about it?
Dj.
