Recharging the Batteries

I am a bit hyperactive, and have been since I was a child. I recall being given Ritalin when it was a vile, clear and wholly bitter-tasting liquid that had be poured over a tablespoon of table sugar in order to force it down my throat (which kind of defeated the purpose).

As a result, I don't need much sleep - about four or six hours a night. As I've grown older, though, that lack of sleep catches up to me.

Case in point: Yesterday.

I got a grand total of about four hours of sleep the previous night (which included watching the strangely dissatisfying season finale of Battlestar Galactica), and the workplace's computer screen and fluorescent lighting conspired to give me a migraine. I fought through it (my body knows who's boss) with the promise that I'd sleep when I got home.

As soon as I got home I hurriedly made my way through my mail and dinner, watered the plants and chastised the cats, and was sound asleep before 8.

And slept all the way through to my alarm. Seven full hours, and I'll sleep in on my days off later in the week.

Feeling great today, yes.