Today Gabe is wearing a green fleece, khaki pants, and brown boots.
Have you ever had a day where you didn’t sleep enough? The whole day feels so long. Decisions are so hard. Tiny things swing you hugely in one way or another. A cup of coffee? You’re on the moon — for five minutes. Twenty minutes later you’re debating whether or not it’s socially acceptable to put your head down on the table in a coffee shop where technically you did pay for the privilege to sit a table with a cup of coffee, but does “sitting” also include putting your face on the table if you’re very quiet and not bothering anyone?
And then upon deciding it’s probably not acceptable, you just stare blankly at a barista cheerfully wiping down an espresso machine and wonder, “Have I ever been that happy?”.
Or maybe you think nothing at all.
But the best part about days like that — where the hours drag on and yet go by without notice — is knowing that at some point it will be bedtime. It might feel impossibly far away, but it’s coming.
That was me yesterday.
I waited patiently all day for bedtime. I stared out windows, closed my eyes riding in the car, and gaped at my computer screen while trying to look like I was working.
I did my best to play, with a few friends, a board game described to me as “like Risk, only a lot longer”.
And then finally, it was bedtime.
Hooray! Oh, bedtime. It’s so nice to see you.
And then it was 4am. And then I was awake. And then it was today. Only today was yesterday. A tired, sleepy stretch of hours; a bleak countdown to bedtime.
At least today I know what I’m in for.
I’m writing this missive during a brief “up” period, which I can already tell is starting to cave in around me. My thoughts are starting to unfocus; the barista keeps looking up to find my glassy, vacant eyes watching her hands deftly fly between the stainless steel tools at her workstation.
It is time to get in the car and go home. It is time to sleep. Or at least think about sleeping.
Countdown to bedtime: 10 hours…9:59:59…9:59:58…