Morning time

I love Sundays. Sundays are for sleeping. Lots of sleeping.

The one day, the one chance to make up for any missed sleep during the week.

I love my Sundays.

I discovered that my upset stomach is directly tied to four o'clock. If I am awake at four in the morning I am going to be sick. Hits like a dead weight, ton of bricks.

That does not explain why last night just before four I was suddenly awake. Like ice water.

Sleeping one second, not sleeping the next.

I don't like that so much. 

Especially since it was followed so quickly by that wave of oh I don't feel so good.

It past quickly I was able to fall back into deep sleep.

But looking at it this morning, what the heck?

It's odd how alot of time I cannot tell what I've really done and what I dreamt I did.

Since this post wasn't here when I woke up, I'm going with fell asleep dreaming I was writing until a different dream took over.

The Voice;  softly soothing, musical, calming whisper. 

A good night. very good night.

That sunshine coming in my window is deceptive. I know it's going to be freezing the second I leave my covers.

I think I shall stay put for as long as I can.

Stalling.

Hey that's another thing Sundays are good for.