Ode to work and sleep, by Will Parkinson
One. More. Hour. I can hear my bed calling. It's whispering sweet nothings in my ear. The vile tempter. It knows I'm not strong enough to resist, it understands that my flesh is weak. It relishes the power that it has over me, and I feel honored to be in its thrall. It is my master and I am but the humble servant.
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Second shift has arrived! I can now go and allow my bed to claim me, as one might a mate. Comfort me. Coddle me. Wrap me in its warmth for a time, before becoming again a cruel lover who forces me from the depths of caring and desire, and thrusts me back into the cruel, unforgiving world, forcing me to make my own way for a time, until I'm welcomed back to its rapture.
(Yeah, I was bored and tired at work.)
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Although I wish that I didn't have to sleep so much and waste all that time, I savor my time sleeping.
I know exactly how you feel. It is wonderful to sleep well in a comfortable bed!
