Day Eleven: Where You Sleep
I've been up since the crack of dawn, at the computer nearly as long, and my eyes are drooping. I'd like to go back to bed, but I dare not move. I'm dog-sitting this weekend, so four dogs are sleeping nearby. Lucky, lucky dogs. I know that if I so much as roll back in my chair, the sound will wake them, and they'll be ready to go outside and play again. I'm dying to sleep, but a real nap is out of the question at the moment, so I do the next best thing:
I pull out the keyboard shelf as far as it will go, push the keyboard to the back edge of it, and lean forward. The keyboard shelf supports my upper body while I place my folded arms on the front edge of the desk and lay my head on my crossed wrists. This will be a short nap: five minutes, ten if I'm lucky, but it might be enough time for my mind to shut down and reboot.
Sometimes we want more of something than we can get, but then a little bit turns out to be all we needed in the first place.