Saturday morning

Every time my doctor asks me,"Are you regular?" I just nod and say, "Extremely regular," even though I want to yell, "I am so f%@#!ing regular I can't sleep past 6 am because my body is screaming for the toilet!"

All I want to do is to sleep late, once in a while. Oh, twice a week, on Saturdays and Sundays, is that too much to ask? Saturdays are the worst because my brain is still filled with work thoughts and so when I crawl back into bed and try to sleep again, I start thinking about that conversation or that meeting or that other thing I didn't do but will have to do on Monday but what if I forget and maybe I should have stayed late on Friday and gotten it over with oh god what is wrong with me?

I try silence (except for the sounds of early morning traffic outside my window), turning on the tv (at night I often fall asleep to old sitcoms, which numb my brain from actual thinking), reading, or just squeezing my eyes shut and cursing. And then I eventually get up and sit here at my computer, feeling tired and looking at the unmade bed beside me and thinking how nice it would be to crawl back under that down comforter and sleep a few more hours, if I could only turn off my brain.

Good morning.