For tomorrow morning
I took the day off from heavy posting, and expect to return tomorrow.
But I thought I'd offer the following passage from one of my favorite authors, something to think about for tomorrow morning. For those of you who love snooze alarms and Milan Kundera as much as I do, here's an excerpt from his book Immortality (Chapter 2):
I'm in bed, happily dozing. With the first stirrings of wakefulness, around six in the morning, I reach for the small transistor radio next to my pillow and press the button. An early-morning news program comes on, but I am hardly able to make out the individual words, and once again I fall asleep, so that the announcer's sentences merge into my dreams. It is the most beautiful part of sleep, the most delightful moment of the day: thanks to the radio I can savor drowsing and waking, that marvelous swinging between wakefulness and sleep which in itself is enough to keep us from regretting our birth.
And here, from my archives, is the way to rescue yourself if you find that you are overindulging in the blissful pleasure of the snooze alarm.