In Lieu of More Poetry

My SleepNumber app tells me I was in bed for four hours and thirty-nine minutes last night; four hours and eight minutes of which were identified as “restful sleep.” The 4:08 figure compares unfavorably with my restful sleep average of 5:39. That figure compares unfavorably with my target of 7:30, which I almost never achieve. I suppose I don’t need as much sleep as I target, but I think I probably need more than 4:39 or 4:08 or even 5:39. Yet in recent memory I haven’t collapsed for lack of sleep. So there you go.

***

My cheesy little poem, first post of the day, was a disappointment to me. I posted it anyway. But I wrote another one that I haven’t posted yet because I want to polish it. I wrote the second one with the intent that it constitute lyrics to a song. But I don’t have a tune in mind, inasmuch as I am incapable of writing music. But lyrics, I think I can do reasonably well. I just don’t often share them. Because, well, they don’t sound as good just reading them off the page or screen as they sound (in my head) when sung to a well-written piece of music.

***

This morning, I will facilitate a post-service conversation at church. I’m trying something a little different. Rather than asking participants to watch and them comment on a themed TED-Talk (or other such video speech), I’m going to show a 10-minute documentary video about the posthumous Leonard Cohen album, Thanks for the Dance.  I have no idea how it will go over. But we shall see. I found the video extremely moving and thought-provoking. If it sparks conversation, good. If not, I will chalk it up to another piece of evidence that I am not really as in-sync with the people at church as I once thought.

***

My wife awoke yesterday with a pretty bad cold. I went out and bought Robitussin for her. She stayed in all day and slept for a good part of the day, I think. I went out to lunch with a friend who, after we had lunch, bought flowers for my wife. I love nice people, don’t you?  I Even though I awoke very early this morning (4:35), my wife was already up. Well, she had gotten up a bit earlier because she was coughing. When I got up, she was in her study, trying to sleep in her recliner. She went back to bed almost immediately. Ach. I hope she’s better soon.

***

It’s now 37 degrees. The forecast calls for that number to almost double to 72 by mid-afternoon. How does one dress for such wild temperature swings? Perhaps I should wear a thong under a parka. If I had a parka. And if I had a thong.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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