Of late I've been approximately 437 years of age.
I need to go to bed at 9 p.m. If I don't go to bed at 9 p.m. or before, I tend to go to sleep in whatever sitting appliance I tend to be habitating at the moment. And then someone has to wake me up, convince me I actually am/was asleep, and guide me gently around the furniture and up the steps to the bathroom.
From there I seem to be able to make it to bed on my own.
It's quite sad, really.
I remember way back when I was only 343 years old that I would actually stay up as late as, oh, 10:30 p.m. or so.
Now THOSE were the DAYS.
But now? Now my eyes, chest and behind all compete to see who can droop the most and with the greatest speed and aplomb.
And now, if you'll excuse me, it's bedtime.
Again.
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