sleep

i got seven and a half hours of sleep but i am still so sleepy this morning. i think i need an extended hibernation period. i'll get a nice cave somewhere in the austin area. i'll decorate it with pillows and blankets and faux fur rugs. i'll wrap myself up in a chenille coccoon and i won't come out till i'm good and rested. munchkins will beat on the stone door: "let us in! let us eeeeen!"
but i'll be snoring so deeply that no sound will penetrate the slumber. witches will fly around the cave in an attempt to find a craggy nook through which to slither. but none will they find; all crevices will have been stopped up with the density of my sleepiness. wizards will cast incantations against the rock walls to try to get in. "ha!" i'll say in my dreams. "i care not!" i'll say. words like that will be common in my dreams: "i care not!"
once my sleep card is full, i'll awaken, slowly and completely. i'll stay in my bed for days, awake, calmly looking at the walls of the cave, before finally rising out of bed with a new and rejuvenated sense of self. by that time the munchkins, witches and wizards will have given up, moved on to easier targets. i'll cook me a good cave breakfast, brew me some good cave coffee, maybe watch me some good cave movies and read me some good cave books. and i won't take off my pajamas till i'm good 'n' cave ready.
when i finally emerge, the sunlight will be like gold and silver pouring over me and illuminating my path of blessedness. the creatures will watch from green nooks. i'll place my feet one after the other on my path to my destination, breathing the deep fresh air. nothing will obstruct my view.