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Tell her it’s late…I’ve got nothing to say…
Tell her I don’t want to cry on her shoulder…maybe tomorrow we’ll talk it over…
Mr. Sandman…Take Her Away…
Last night…I stumbled from bed for a bathroom break…and Bertha grabbed hold of the dream I was having when I woke up…you probably know how it goes…why was I dreaming that…I wonder if it means anything…hmmm…I wonder if that would work…how could I change that…I wonder if that would work…
This of course is followed by…I’ve got to get back to sleep…I’ve got to get back to sleep…I wonder if I should paint the living room…I might need a new sofa if I did…oh…I forgot…I’ve got to get a door prize for the fall carnival…and a cake…wonder why we have to get both…I’ve got to get back to sleep…I’ve got to get back to sleep…I’m gonna feel awful in the morning…
Until…finally…you drift back into that state…of relaxation…near sleep…floating…ahhh…and the alarm clock blasts…or in my case…Miss I never have to set an alarm clock…Bertha shakes me…it’s time to get up…
Bertha…unlike my achy-breaky body…doesn’t seem require any shuteye…I think she even enjoys our middle of the night conversations…
One thing she did point out…that seems of note…is that sleep is like life…you can’t force it…the harder you try to make it happen…the more it alludes you…it’s best just to relax…take some deep breaths…and let it happen…
Bertha…I love the insight…but couldn’t you tell me during office hours?
Jane