Far past my would be, should be bedtime.
Every time I walk through my bedroom doors I think about how quickly I can be asleep & then I count on my fingers approximately how many hours of sleep I will get before I have to wake up.
But what happens?
I diddle, daddle, flit & fleet around for procrastination's sake.
The only reason I am pitter pattering around 30+ minutes later is because I don't want to get my butt of my bed or chair, squirt some L'oreal onto my hands & bubble up my dirty eyes, wash my "pored" nose, & scrub my freckled cheeks.
(figure 1.1)If I have said it once, I have said it 100 times, the worst part of my day is taking 6 1/2 minutes to get ready for bed.
Sometimes when I am really hating life & the thought of washing my face & drying it with my burgundy towel, I send figure 1.1 to my friends & ask them to come over & to wash my face for me.
People seem to think I am joking when I send this.
Here's a reality check for you: This is far from a laughing matter. I couldn't be more serious.
I have yet to find a friend that will head this call of duty, pick their favorite verb (i.e. drive, run, skip, hop) & get over to my house & do this laborious task for me.
Because the person that would do that would undoubtedly be dubbed a true friend till the end.