Today was the first time in ages I said “fuck it” to waking up at a responsible hour.
I’ve been pushing myself to not sleep in until 4 PM for a couple of years nows, considering how eight hours of sleep is plenty and my time can be spent more productively out of bed. And it has worked well for me in the past. Nowadays though, I’m not doing that much productive things in my free time, unless you consider finally working through my movie queue a dramatically life-enhancing activity.
So today, after returning home way late (or early, if you catch my drift), I slept in. An extra hour of rest on top of the ideal eight, and damn it was three in the afternoon already. But I think that’s okay. I wouldn’t have done much other than watching movies anyway, so might as well spent some extra time recharging. And to be honest I felt like it was something I could do after sticking to my “eight hours of sleep” schedule quite tightly these past few years.
And guess what? I still felt a bit shit, because going to bed at six in the morning isn’t exactly the kind of thing that matches with my rhythm and extra sleep always makes me feel a bit less awake.
That’s what Sunday’s for though, right?