Napping

No, I'm not talking about my hair on a humid day. I'm talking about a good, old-fashioned nap! Like we took when we were kids – sprawled out on the floor (or a mat, if the daycare owners actually cared). 
Today, I took one of those. So, what's the big deal? I don't know. But, I needed it. I'd finished my taxes. Taken out the garbage. Checked the mail (and my email). Blah, blah, blah… I guess I don't need to justify my body's yearning for unconsciousness before 3 in the morning. But, I woke up renewed – not to be confused with a sudden state of undress.
I joke about sleep deprivation. But, being exhausted and groggy on a regular basis stinks. All those who sleep like babies, take my word for it. Fellow yawners, you have my sympathy. But, don't mistake that as an invitation for grouchiness. I try never to use my powers of depletion for evil.
Now, birds aren't suddenly landing on my finger. I'm not singing. Yet. And rodents aren't dancing around my living room in some choreographed number. They're fighting over cheese, as usual. They're like those smart rats in The Secret of NIMH . So cute.
I love who I am. But, I also love sleep – boiled, fried, baked, grilled, mashed, whipped – however you can make it. Yum! I'd ask for seconds, but I don't want you to think I'm greedy. So, I'll push the plate away. The only kind I'm not partial to is probably rocky road...
The airbag always leaves such a lousy aftertaste.