Saturday, February 26, 2005

I'm feeling a certain amount of old-lady guilt today, for having slept through a labmate's going-away party.

I was supposed to join the group for sledding after work, and then a late-night trip to a local bar. At the last minute, I punted on the sledding because I realized that I really should call Rick and brainstorm about the disposition of some of our superfluous property before he completes the move from Kalamazoo. (We also had to deal with some bank-account stuff, his sister and her kids were getting ready to drive up from Indianapolis to help him, and parts of the situation really did require some privacy.) So I went home instead, spent some time on the phone with Rick, and then decided to take a nap before going out. And, of course, I didn't wake up until nearly 11 PM, ready to do nothing but move from the sofa to the bedroom and complete the task of sleeping through the night.

Actually, even when Rick and I were dating twenty years ago, we learned not to make any late-night plans on Fridays, because we both usually wound up becoming testy and irritable. After repeated failures to have a good time, we both realized that Friday nights were the absolute physical low points of both of our weeks. Even if things had gone perfectly at work all week, by definition any day that one is awakened by an alarm clock is a day of sleep deprivation. Doesn't matter how much sleep preceded the alarm -- I'm convinced that being awakened by a loud noise, instead of awakening spontaneously, is just plain bad for us. Since most of our lives leave us without any choice in the matter, though, other workarounds are necessary.

If this is true, then Friday night can't help but be the worst night of the week for those of us who are overly sensitive to tight schedules. Five days in a row of being rousted out of bed unready, and no chance yet to recover from it. If we tried to overschedule the evening, someone's head would get bitten off by nine-thirty, so we always tried to limit late-night plans to Saturday. And, of course, on Sunday nights, when we're as well-rested as is humanly possible, we're usually ready to stay awake and party. Kind of cruel, when you think about it.

Right now, though, all I want to do is stay up reading and websurfing all night. I've been trying to make it to one or the other of Rochester's two UU churches on Sunday mornings, since I think it's important to tap into the freethinking community here. I do wish, though, that church services were at 2 PM instead of in the morning. There are morning people and there are night people, and then there are people like me.


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