An early night

Wednesday is track night, or it would have been if I’d felt in any way ready to spend half an hour hoofing it round in circles. But this evening I felt unusually tired, and so instead I went home, put the child to bed, and then sat on the sofa, a rather broken man.

When I was young I saw my friends every day at school and at the weekend, and it seemed strange to me that my parents didn’t see all their friends, all the time. Why weren’t they just doing things they enjoyed? When I was young, of course, I didn’t have laundry, or credit card bills, or expense claims, or PowerPoint presentations, or the utter exhaustion that comes from being woken up every night by a child. So I suppose if nothing else, La Serpiente Aquatica Negra has equipped me with more empathy for why my father went to sleep at every chance he got.

However, I do have an advantage he never enjoyed: a ten minute commute. That should add hours to my life every week where I’m not wasting time in transit. Also, if I was really sensible, I’d go home at lunchtimes and sleep, but I believe that while I’d be more rested, I’d probably fail to wake up after half an hour and would instead regain consciousness in the middle of the evening. And then not be able to sleep again, and be a zombie the next day.

So there’s no easy solution. My larger worry is that if I’ve now forgone Spanish on Tuesdays, and running in the week(and at weekends) is becoming more precarious in my schedule, what else is going to be obliterated even before Child 2 arrives? I wrote a little while ago about my failure to keep in contact with friends; I’m not sure if this is a natural consequence of the stage of life I’m in, or if I’m actually terribly incompetent at basic human things.

Or I just need to sleep more.

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