Sleep Patterns

It started Tuesday night.

She is more of a night person than I am. Normally, I have to be on the bus by 6:30 am, so I am in bed before 11:00 pm. When I go to bed, she continues her internet discussions and joins me later.

Tuesday night I rolled toward her and she pushed me away with a verbal "Don't Touch!" message. Hmmm. She had a bad night. Nothing could touch her feet. Not me, not the blankets, not her other foot. Odd.

Wednesday morning I felt drugged. I could not get up. I called in sick to work. I slept past 9 am. Rarely do I ever sleep past 7 am, even on Saturdays. My body is used to the early wake-up call. Wednesday was different. I was vibrating, I was so tired.

By the afternoon things were OK, so we drove to Payson to visit Bonny. Our daughter met us on the way and we all drove together to Bonny's. After a wonderful visit and dinner, we proceeded back to Orem, where she and our daughter attended a soggy outdoor performance of "The Scarlet Pimpernel". I waited at the in-laws. The performance finished sometime during the 10 o'clock news and daughter dropped her off at her parents.

After a quick recap of the evening, she decided to tell her parents about the day's activities. That included a background description of events from 2 weeks ago. Leno had already finished his monologue! Amazingly she wrapped-up her narative in record time and we got on our way home. The morning's fatigue had returned. Got to bed by midnight or so.

There was no option to forego work again yesterday, so I got up only a few minutes late, catching the regular 6:20 am bus.

After work she came downtown after work to visit the Joseph Smith Display at the Church History Museum. The bubs and his parents accompanied us. We all had chinese afterwards at the ZCMI food court, then we took them home. I had a hard time keeping my eyes focused as I drove home, but we arrived safely. Though it was only 8:45 pm, I went right to bed. I felt that I could catch-up and prayed for restful sleep.

By 2 am we were up and studying the meaning of Zarahemla. Why did it take a book by a convicted murderer to help us understand that Zarah means "son of Judah"? We looked and read and talked for about an hour and fifteen minutes. The symbol of Zarah is a red hand and circle. It all fits and that twenty year old farm boy couldn't have had a clue that it would fit so tightly.

Thank heavens I'd gone to bed a bit early. I am more rested today, than I've been for the past several, though I did have to catch the later, 6:40 am bus.

Hopefully this pattern is only temporary. I'm not at my best when I'm tired.