Much Ado about NOTHING

In the Fullness of Morning

It's Saturday A.M. -- perhaps the only morning all week in which you can doze ad infinitum. The sun is up, but you pull the covers over your head and continue to dream. Then, that dreaded feeling arises: a liquid fullness in your lower extremities. You try to ignore it and go back to your convivial dream. But the reverie changes: instead of floating through an ambrosial dreamscape, your dream-self is now searching for a restroom.

It's a vexatious dilemma. Do you interrupt your well-earned languor to rise and use the facilities? For most of us, alas, the answer is "mmmuhhh.....okay."

You leverage yourself off the mattress. The room is a blur, and you're befuddled. You collide with malevolent furniture as you stagger to the can, where your slumber attire descends and at last you find blissful relief.

Then you return to your berth and attempt to rejoin the Arms of Morpheus. But it's too late. Further sleep eludes you, or, if you do, perchance, lose consciousness, it's not nearly as serene as before.

Tiny children simply evade the problem: they sleep and pee simultaneously, without hesitation or compunction. Adults must answer nature's summons, and sacrifice repose.

Either that, or stop drinking so much damn coffee at night.