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Last night, I was in my room reading. At one point I set my book -- a collection of Hopi myths -- aside, and just laid there. I relaxed and let Splashdown play, not worrying about wasting time. I was tired, in the sense of having done a lot that day (I had walked to the Zoo and back, and balanced my checkbook for the past year), so it felt good to relax. It was a pleasant sort of tired, not the headachey sleep-deprived tired that I feel all year, the kind of tired where you have to keep moving, keep your brain and body both engaged so that you keep your energy high and don't drift off or enter that painful state of sleep denied.

So I lay there, letting my mind wander over inconsequential things, for 20 minutes.


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