When I was a teenager, I could sleep until noon. Now, it’s simply naps between all too frequent trips to the bathroom. In retirement, I still get up to my wife’s alarm, so I’ve yet to shed that handcuff from my working days. During her weekends, the cat usually wakes me up, if not my bladder. Wake-up calls and alarms are also essential aspects of keeping on schedule when we travel, many times more grueling than any work itinerary.  All in all, there are very few days, even in retirement, when I can lay in bed as long as I like. In any case, I’m always disappointed and grumpy to leave the comfort of my bed. It’s by far the hardest thing I do every day and inspired this poem:

Sleep Deprivation

The hardest part,
Of every day?
Getting out of bed,
I’d have to say.

Bedtime is easy,
The day is done.
But getting up,
Is never fun.

Even on Christmas,
Why get up early?
My mood is dark,
I’m feeling surly.

Let me sleep in,
For all our sakes.
You’ll see the difference,
A couple hours makes.

Don’t wake-up,
A groggy me.
Don’t poke the bear,
Just leave me be.

You’ll regret,
What you might find.
The angry me,
Is never kind.

I can’t get up,
I need my rest.
Don’t dare stir,
This wasp’s nest.

Sleep Deprivation,
I strongly detest.
Now go away,
Don’t be a pest.

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