Well, I mean yesterday, Thursday. It's been happening about every two months for the past five years or so, as it did yesterday.
I awakened at my usual early hour and followed my normal routine. Fed the cat, made the coffee, read some news and answered some email for awhile before I showered, dressed and had breakfast - the usual for a winter morning: hot oatmeal with fresh fruit. Yesterday it was half a banana, some blueberries and homemade apple sauce.
Then I got undressed and went back to bed.
As I said, it doesn't happen often but fairly regularly. I wake, apparently feeling fine and ready for the day. But an hour later, I don't feel fine. I feel tired and a bit sick. Nothing I can identify - like a fever or a cold or aches or pains or anything I'd bother a physician with. I just feel crummy.
It's not that I haven't had enough sleep – plenty of that. I'm not a drinker except for wine at dinner with friends which has not been the case for a week.
And so I spent the morning sleeping, broke for a light lunch, went back to bed again and alternately snoozed and watched an episode of an old British police drama on Netflix that I've come to like.
In the late afternoon, I rose again, dressed and prepared for an evening community meeting feeling fine and dandy. In fact, feeling as though I'd spent the day resting in bed – whether I needed it or not.
A good while ago, I decided to chalk it up to old age – that sometimes the ol' body and mind need time off from life for a day even if they haven't been overtaxed. It's another plus for retirement: I do it because I can.
At The Elder Storytelling Place today, Mark Sherman: Idiot Moments