It’s overcast, but in a kind of friendly way. A soft, basil-scented breeze blows through the screens of our bedroom windows, right above our herb garden. It’s Saturday and there’s a Pride parade going on about 45 minutes away; but we can’t bring ourselves to drive there, search in vain for parking, fight the crowds. Just now, we looked at each other and came to the same decision. Stay home.
I started reading a book I love, and within about 20 minutes I was overcome by the most intense sleepiness—and for once in my life, I didn’t fight it off with a barrage of To Dos. I just yielded. I slept. It’s such a blessing—that moment when you want to, are allowed to, and then actually can just lie down and drift into the velvet honey of sleep. There are people who for the life of them cannot do this. Or if they do, their rest is fitful and incomplete. They wake up more tired than they were before. I am sending all of them, and all of you, the delicious experience I had today.