Me too, Shoe. But it's only 1:30 here so I have miles to go before I sleep.
Huh. Sounds like poetry.
Shades of my dear friend Robert Frost.
Hadn't thought of him in a while. Must be the image of my old school.
I don't sleep well, hard to get to sleep. I think my brain doesn't want to slow down, afraid it might miss something. Or maybe so full of inconsequential fluff it can't rest.
Kinda like going to bed on a full tummy.
Sleep doesn't come quickly.
