This week, I have discovered that there are different sorts of tiredness. One is good; one is not. The bad kind seeps into your bones, drags down your muscles, and depresses you. It is the result of your mind skittering in circles and pushing against its boundaries for three years without stop. It forces you to nap in the middle of the day because you can't not sleep, and then it keeps you awake at night. It is malevolent and controlling.

The good kind settles in as a warm, comfortable lethargy an hour or so before bedtime. It is the result of hard physical exercise and a good day's work. When you wake up in the morning, it helps you yawn to the very bottom of your lungs and satisfactorily stretch your limbs. This is a feeling that works in concert with your own desires; it brings you peacefully to sleep at the appointed time and releases you gently in the morning.

Sleep is not the enemy, something that keeps me from my appointed tasks. It is a gift, a blessing - one of my appointed tasks in itself.  ¶ 7:37 AM