I don’t know why, but the sleep I get in my bed each night doesn’t seem to count. It just isn’t enough. By the time I go to bed, I’m already dreading the time when I’ll have to get up again and start the next day’s grind. So even in sleep, the stress of my day-to-day life crowds me with its schedules and appointments, and errands and to-do lists.
I want to be able to sleep during the day. I want to lay me down, comfortable and safe in the knowledge that there’s nothing I have to do, and that I can sleep as much or as little as I like. Only then will I truly feel rested.
For now, I’m listening to Blues Traveler, and that’s working pretty well. John Popper’s voice is as familiar as an old friend, and I always feel at home as soon as he begins to sing to me; and “Manhattan Bridge” is just so beautiful, it makes me feel like I’m already in heaven and I won’t ever have to wake up again.
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