[continued from previous entry]
I go off about the getting-light-so-goddamn-early thing not simply because I'm a, er, crank. During most of my adult life I have not been inclined toward sleeping in. I've rarely been part of social groups given to staying out way late (behavior which might lead naturally to sleeping in). People in my family didn't tend to sleep late.* It simply hasn't been part of my experience, apart from high school/college.
And then four years ago I went to Madrid, where staying up late and sleeping late are features of the culture. Weekend mornings are quiet, the streets mostly deserted until ten, eleven o'clock, because virtually everyone stays in bed. Sleeping late is in the air. And I found myself gradually falling into that pattern, realized how much better it feels than the not-sleeping-in option, how much happier it makes my body.
So it's not simply that I'm a convert and regularly go off in obnoxious fashion, as some converts will do.** It's also that my body's rhythms seem to have changed during the last four years, so that sleeping late feels more natural than the up-and-at-'em model. My body now prefers sleeping late. And wakes up far more slowly, in a far more leisurely manner than it used to. I tell this to people here, but I'm not sure how many really get it. If I run into someone in the a.m. hours and they're trying to be social, my conversation may not qualify as the high-performance variety, or at least will probably peter out faster than it might later in the day. I'll make a point of mentioning that I haven't yet reached full consciousness, the response is sometimes to look at a watch, say something like, "It's 10:30!"
Yes. It is. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to not converse for a while.
A strange fact: when I have the leeway to wake up at the speed my body's looking for, it feels extremely nice. Could be my little bod knows what it needs.
Some of my best friends, by the way, could be described as converts of one kind or another.***
*Especially my mother.
**Especially my mother.
***If it was good enough for my mother, it's good enough for them.
*****************
This afternoon, visiting my downhill neighbor, Mo, at the house he's lived in for over 60 years -- this season his first summer there without his wife, Kay (see entries of October 27 and November 6 and 8, 2003):
Madrid, te echo de menos.
rws 10:23 AM [+]
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