More than a year later
I looked at the date of the past post (a la recherche du post perdu?) and was shocked to see how long it had been.
I suppose the festivities last spring kept me occupied.
And then I thought... wait a minute! I wrote something in January and One if By Sea commented... so it can't have been more than a year. And if I hadn't remembered, and had gone on and on and on about the past year, it would be just one more example of how unreliable the memory is becoming. I find things I have written, for example, and it is as though I have discovered I had an extra finger on my hand-- where did that thing come from? when did I write this? Good thing no one reads this blog.
It's not age, though. The Wee One left out the month of July in her planning calendar. Skipped merrily from June to August, and then was worried because it seemed that there wasn't going to be enough time to get everything done. Hell no, not if you take an entire 31 days out of the year-- that's almost a 10% reduction in the overall amount of time available.
I have a theory, though. (Always with the theories, I know) But this one makes perfect sense.
This past week they noted on one of the early morning (or late night, depending on your perspective) news shows that some study of a bustardillion people found that, compared with the same study done some blickedy number of years ago, there had been a decrease in the average amount of time spent sleeping from 7 to 6 hours a night, (or it might have been between some other two numbers), but the decrease was considerable. since it was either early or very late, and I was either more or less asleep, and irritated at the thought that the obvious reason why I wasn't asleep at that particular moment was because I was listening to this drivel about how we weren't sleeping as much any more as we used to.
But I digress.
The theory is that we actually create time by sleeping.
Seriously-- think back to when you were a teenager or even younger-- it wasn't hard to dissolve into 12 hours of positively blissful sleep and there was always plenty of time. In fact, there was a positive surfeit (thank you James, one of my favorite words) of time, which, it being in abundance, we freely squandered trying to come up with something to do, preferably involving ladders and windows and waking people up in the middle of the night, or mooning the local constable from a moving vehicle (without, of course, first obtaining permission from the driver to hang a hairy derierre out the window). Harmless enough, I suppose, but having an element of risk so that one could eventually go back to sleep, with the satisfaction of having, by God, accomplished something worth discussing in the cafeteria the next day. So clearly, it is the act of sleeping that generates time in an individual's life. The less you sleep; the less time you have-- and it only gets worse if you continue in this downward spiral, until you merely blink, and an entire night has been lost.
Now that I have an hypothesis, I must needs test it. Adieu!
I suppose the festivities last spring kept me occupied.
And then I thought... wait a minute! I wrote something in January and One if By Sea commented... so it can't have been more than a year. And if I hadn't remembered, and had gone on and on and on about the past year, it would be just one more example of how unreliable the memory is becoming. I find things I have written, for example, and it is as though I have discovered I had an extra finger on my hand-- where did that thing come from? when did I write this? Good thing no one reads this blog.
It's not age, though. The Wee One left out the month of July in her planning calendar. Skipped merrily from June to August, and then was worried because it seemed that there wasn't going to be enough time to get everything done. Hell no, not if you take an entire 31 days out of the year-- that's almost a 10% reduction in the overall amount of time available.
I have a theory, though. (Always with the theories, I know) But this one makes perfect sense.
This past week they noted on one of the early morning (or late night, depending on your perspective) news shows that some study of a bustardillion people found that, compared with the same study done some blickedy number of years ago, there had been a decrease in the average amount of time spent sleeping from 7 to 6 hours a night, (or it might have been between some other two numbers), but the decrease was considerable. since it was either early or very late, and I was either more or less asleep, and irritated at the thought that the obvious reason why I wasn't asleep at that particular moment was because I was listening to this drivel about how we weren't sleeping as much any more as we used to.
But I digress.
The theory is that we actually create time by sleeping.
Seriously-- think back to when you were a teenager or even younger-- it wasn't hard to dissolve into 12 hours of positively blissful sleep and there was always plenty of time. In fact, there was a positive surfeit (thank you James, one of my favorite words) of time, which, it being in abundance, we freely squandered trying to come up with something to do, preferably involving ladders and windows and waking people up in the middle of the night, or mooning the local constable from a moving vehicle (without, of course, first obtaining permission from the driver to hang a hairy derierre out the window). Harmless enough, I suppose, but having an element of risk so that one could eventually go back to sleep, with the satisfaction of having, by God, accomplished something worth discussing in the cafeteria the next day. So clearly, it is the act of sleeping that generates time in an individual's life. The less you sleep; the less time you have-- and it only gets worse if you continue in this downward spiral, until you merely blink, and an entire night has been lost.
Now that I have an hypothesis, I must needs test it. Adieu!
posted by Merrrrde at 8:53 PM
1 comments
