LOSING AN ENTIRE DAY

Today was planned; not within minutes, but loosely, for hours, I knew where I was going to be, and what I was going to be doing. It was a comfortable feeling, and printed out nicely on my personalized Day-Timer pages. I felt competent, organized, and ready for action.

Then the day began.

First of all, I must let you know what I truly am. At my heart of hearts, my innermost soul, my spiritual identity - I am a sleeper. That is, a person who sleeps - and does that one action exceedingly well. In fact, probably better than almost anything else I do. I don’t necessarily dream well, I know I occasionally snore (just a little), and I have a reputation of talking in my sleep - even praying aloud in my sleep. But boy, can I sleep.

So almost any opportunity that presents itself, I will crawl under the covers and drift right off. And after getting up at the crack of dawn (literally), feeding the horses and feeling the cold sneak under my sweatshirt, into my shoes - hot oatmeal and a cup of hot chocolate (with three LARGE marshmallows) warms me up . . . and also makes me sleepy.

Guess what happened then? Right; I went back to bed.

So I had really just drifting off, in a nice, warm bed with a cat curled up against the back of my leg . . . someone drives up, and my two highly-sensitive burglar-alarms (the dogs) went off.

At least I had not changed into my pajamas.

It was my own favorite Jehovah Witnesses, who have been coming every week or so to chat, share stories, and listen to me talk about my testimony. A very cute older couple who just keep coming back. And we talked for almost two hours - and by then, it was too late to go back to sleep.

So I did my running around in town, hitting Target so my in-town daughter could blow her Christmas cash, and waiting for her low-income eligibility appointment to be done. Got home in record time, convinced I could get in a quick nap before my hubby came home, and we would have to leave for a social-evening at a friend’s.

And once again, just drifting off . . . dogs get into a tussle. Wake me up. Completely. And that was it for the night.

So . . . it’s 11:00 p.m. at night, and why am I awake writing about my stolen sleep instead of sleeping?!?!?