There once was a day called Tuesday

I woke up this morning at 7, surprised it wasn’t an hour earlier — until I discovered I’d accidentally set my alarm for 6 PM. If I’d been smart, I would have stayed up and caught the 7:37 train into Manhattan. I don’t actually get up at 6 AM anyway; I just wake up briefly, reset my alarm for 7, and then go back to sleep. I read somewhere once that you can trick your body into feeling refreshed with an hour-long nap — sometimes even more refreshed than if you’d slept the whole seven or eight hours straight, and it does usually seems to work for me. Except, of course, this morning I wasn’t smart. I guess I decided I still needed that nap and I went back to sleep until about twenty to eight. As I’ve noted before, there’s an 8:15 train I can also catch if I decide to sleep in.

Except the train was painfully slow and late into Penn Station, and I’d have been a lot better off if I’d just forgotten about that nap altogether.

Then again, my train being about 15 minutes late is probably the most exciting thing that happened all day. Still, there’s always the consolation that, although felt very much like a Monday, it was in fact a Tuesday, and the work week is already almost half over. That’s something right?

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