Hallelujah and Praise Be to the god of sleep, Hypnos and Somnus.
I googled those. It's not like I knew them offhand. Don't be impressed.
After a weeks-long battle with the cool-side of the pillow, the dams have broken wide open. My active brain FINALLY told itself,
"Self?! Your Host Body is getting very sleepy. She's getting veerrrrrry sleepy."
It was in the Car Rider Line at the middle school on Friday afternoon when this sweet symbiosis between body and mind took place. Now, even being there at all was a bit happenstance - my 7th grade daughter ordinarily has volleyball practice and doesn't need a ride home.
But Friday. O, sweet redemption day and song of my Soul.
Friday, practice was cancelled: Coach Leah was moving! She's a Prophet! An Annointed one! We particularly feel this way about her when she gives us ample playing time.
So, since I live in Suburbia, there are 4315 moms in line pricking up their kids after school, and sometimes I'm one of them. BUT, I Have the Good Sense to work from home and block my calendar for a full hour so I can sit and "do the Lords' work" from my car and be one of the first to get my kid, peel out of the parking lot, and be home about 4 minutes after the Bell has resounded.
Anyhow. Brethren, let me tell you the tale of the Angel Dozigal Who came to rest on my shoulder while waiting in that line. The sun was warm in the sky and blasting in through my windshield. From my podcast app, the Sweet Sounds of Nora McInerny played like a choir performing a lullaby.
And then. More than 10 minutes passed.
I came to, my head pitched forward and hanging as if I was the worst version of Mike Pence in the January 6th of an alternate universe.
My neck creaked complaints.
I looked around for any hustle and bustle (any witnesses to what had unfolded.) Phew.
No one had been worried - what if they'd thought I was dead in here?
Well, now I'm worried - what if I'd been dead in here?
Nap complete.
To be followed by an Altar Call of a 10pm bedtime.
Amen.
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