Remember that Freddy Fender song? Of course you don't.
I generally sleep well. However, last night, a confluence of events robbed me of my rest. I was awake until nearly 4:30 this morning.
I was thinking about my father. I was thinking about other things. And, frankly, I had had so much sleep for so many days in a row that I suppose my body didn't need any more sleep for a while. All I know is, after watching "Whiteout" last evening (it is a film starring the talented and fragrant Kate Beckingsale) we went to bed and remained awake. A clatter from the kitchen got us up. Turned out Newbie broke a dish. We decided go remain up and watched "Pulp Fiction" on late night CBC. They run their late night films uncut, and it was a gas to see it again after several years.
We remained up, watching Pulp Fiction until 4 this morning. Patricia dozed a bit during the latter parts of the film, but I was wide awake, Dondi-eyed, as vigilant as the Sphinx. She went to bed at 4 and fell asleep pretty quickly. I stayed up and watched part of an infomercial before going back to bed. Sleep eventually claimed me.
We were up early this morning to attend a local farmer's market. From there, we went to a bakery a short distance away that's run by Mennonites. Turns out that the girls are expected to cease their formal education after the 9th grade, which is sad. They're allowed to get nurse's training or something like that; but otherwise, the formal education is done at around the age of 15. How very sad.
We went to a yard sale on the way back, and are now at the River John Library yet again, with 2 cups of strong coffee coursing through my veins, secure in the knowledge that the adrenaline or whatever is keeping me going will run out, and I'll sleep for 18 hours.
Heck, I'd settle for 17.
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