Monday – 5, Tuesday – 4, Wednesday – 6, Thursday – 7, Friday – 7, Saturday – 13… What… 13? Thirteen hours of sleep that is. My favorite part of the weekend is catching up on some sleep.
If there isn’t something needed to be accomplished on a weekend morning, I sleep like a rock. The traffic on Lake Shore Drive, screeching of train wheels on the tracks, sirens from police cars passing might seem like annoying interruptions. Not for me. I hear nothing, except the dialogue in my dreams.
After June 30th, I will be retiring. That is probably what I look forward to most about retirement. Sleeping past 4:30 A.M. each day seems like a dream come true after 37 years of that routine. Everyday can be a Saturday. Will it mean as much? Will I start to take sleep for granted? I hope not.
But for now, Saturdays are a gift.