The expediency of my nightly slumber is forever incalculable. Specifically, the reason why I do or don’t sleep well is untold. Whenever I have a good night’s sleep – such as I did last night – I marvel at what might have been the stimulating cause. It may be nothing more than Nature’s soporific but I preserve the idle projection that it may have been something I ate or drank including the handful of prescription drugs I take routinely throughout the day and to which I add some of the Government of Ontario’s THC/CBD combo. No matter. What’s important – like everything else these days – is that whatever it is, it works; and, that is the sole measure of profit.
A distinguishing feature of our agenda is beddy-bye normally around 10:00 pm. This in turn guarantees the likelihood of at least eight hours shut-eye. I aim to remove myself from the lair no later than 8:00 am and preferably closer to 7:30 am. I do this because otherwise the day disappears hopelessly fast. If we’re to manage to cycle and to accomplish any domestic task such as grocery shopping, the hours are speedily consumed. Add to that matutinal ablutions, meal preparation and eating; things slip away quickly.
Within this repetitive chain of events are regrettably some characteristics which do not enlarge themselves in a good way. I am speaking in this instance of those occasions on which I have succumbed like an addict to the pleasures of carrot cake, butter tarts, Montréal bagels and any nut butter in a jar with a spoon! Control in these circumstances is a highly calculated performance, a limitation of quantity; viz., size and frequency. It is a curious enterprise, the transubstantiation of overwhelming desire to moderate temptation, hovering like a humming bird upon the golden sips of nectar.
The manner in which the change occurs, the Roman Catholic Church teaches, is a mystery: “The signs of bread and wine become, in a way surpassing understanding, the Body and Blood of Christ.”
Unquestionably life has become easier for not having to restrict or confine oneself to such vulgar persuasions as dutiful employment or the management of affairs (one’s own or one’s relatives). Long ago I detected the advantage of delegation – that delicious trust concept of agency. Preferably having as well the perpetual existence of a corporation. At a rare pace indeed I am perceptibly being removed from the commonality of daily obligations and slipping instead into the pool of managed assets. How hurriedly we have all descended from our erstwhile appearance to that resembling but another geriatric. We have as well lost touch with a number of elderly people about whom others have increasingly observed, “His memory is starting to go“. These diagnoses are proving to be more precipitous than expected. The transformation can be sudden.
Thus I suppose arises the devotion to whatever else there is besides sleep that works. There remains little time to waste upon things that don’t work. Certainly things in life go ’round; but until the cycle is complete, the preoccupation is unwarranted.