Shakespeare’s Sleep–Elusive for Some
That was a post title from December 2016. Somehow, it sprouted amidst related posts, it seems. Must be time to repost it to new (one could hope) readers–slightly revised.
He died at 52–probably a long life in the 16th century. Still, I must suppose that had Shakespeare lived another 15 years he might have worded these lines from Hamlet a little differently:
“To sleep, perchance to dream.”
Seriously, for most guys over 60 or certainly 65, it’s more like,
To sleep, perchance to pee.
More than once, most nights.
Dreams are fine–entertaining in their way at times. Consider the utility of Macbeth’s sleep:
“Knit up the raveled sleave of care” or be “the balm of hurt minds.“
But only if it persisted, steadily on course to morning, rather than being somnum interruptus. Just the other night I skipped the ice cream during TV watching. (Dairy products do their magic on the bladder). Only got up twice, nonetheless. Unfortunately, the 2nd came at 5:45. Not so early, but then I retired at 11:30 and didn’t immediately enter into dreamland. I used to get by on 6 1/2 hours of sleep back in the working years–fewer in college. Now the shortfall in
“Great nature’s second course,“
leaves cobwebs in the brain. Perhaps a spider or two, crawling the interior of the cranium right where attention stops short of being fully paid.
Why isn’t the coffee done yet? Oh, didn’t turn on the #*x$#$% machine. Thankfully, exercise and a shower cleared the head that spent less than its essential time in bed. I determined to be more productive the next day. Clean up for company coming on Thanksgiving, work on the websites, etc. The next night, I hoped, would be the
“Chief nourisher in life’s feast,“
that along with the turkey.