Tired!
First of all, why the hell do they have to start a Championship Game in the middle of the night?
That game didn't start until 9:30!
I'm usually getting under the blankets, opening my book and reading until I drop it on the floor.
And I was teaching a class last week and there was a young guy in the class - he mentioned that he had three kids - all under the age of five.
"How you sleeping?" I asked.
"Miserable. It's so miserable," he said.
My mind kicked me back in time to the days when sleep was a battle. I go through bouts of insomnia now and again, but most of the time, I sleep pretty consistently.
Villanova had the game in hand pretty much by halftime, but I had watched most of the tournament. I wasn't going to go to sleep until I saw them playing in the confetti.
All told, I got to sleep at about midnight - a full two hours later than usual.
My internal clock had me out of bed at the usual time.
"Damn, I'm tired," was my first thought of the day.
Yet, I got up...
...and figured that I would gather a bit of energy after hitting the first couple of sites.
Nope!
Felt like I felt when the kids were all under five years old.
Like the Walking Dead.
The problem being, I wasn't quite able to be as obnoxious about getting the teams right as if I would have if I'd been fully rested.
"I'm so old," I told one guy who looked to be about 20 years younger than me.
"I'm asleep by 7:30 every night," he said. "I usually wake up for about an hour around midnight and then sleep again until 4:30. I'm always tired."
So, it was early to bed and early to rise on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning.
All set:
Ready to tell everyone that I picked the winner!
Start the damn games earlier!
That game didn't start until 9:30!
I'm usually getting under the blankets, opening my book and reading until I drop it on the floor.
And I was teaching a class last week and there was a young guy in the class - he mentioned that he had three kids - all under the age of five.
"How you sleeping?" I asked.
"Miserable. It's so miserable," he said.
My mind kicked me back in time to the days when sleep was a battle. I go through bouts of insomnia now and again, but most of the time, I sleep pretty consistently.
Villanova had the game in hand pretty much by halftime, but I had watched most of the tournament. I wasn't going to go to sleep until I saw them playing in the confetti.
All told, I got to sleep at about midnight - a full two hours later than usual.
My internal clock had me out of bed at the usual time.
"Damn, I'm tired," was my first thought of the day.
Yet, I got up...
...and figured that I would gather a bit of energy after hitting the first couple of sites.
Nope!
Felt like I felt when the kids were all under five years old.
Like the Walking Dead.
The problem being, I wasn't quite able to be as obnoxious about getting the teams right as if I would have if I'd been fully rested.
"I'm so old," I told one guy who looked to be about 20 years younger than me.
"I'm asleep by 7:30 every night," he said. "I usually wake up for about an hour around midnight and then sleep again until 4:30. I'm always tired."
So, it was early to bed and early to rise on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning.
All set:
Ready to tell everyone that I picked the winner!
Start the damn games earlier!
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