![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Coming out of the afternoon nap is harder than getting up in the morning. The cats need to be fed in the morning, but in the afternoon, I have only myself to get up for, which is not much of a call to leave that soft, warm bed and that deliciously drowsy state of being, or non-being, or quasi-being, whatever. I just want to let the referee count me out, as I lie there twitching and turning, punch-drunk and semi-dreaming.
