I must've overslept |
Last night I went to bed and everything seemed perfectly normal. When I woke up, I was like this.
When I went to sleep last night, my daughters were little girls. The younger one was just learning to ride a two-wheeler, and the older was mastering long division. Now they are grown: one married, and one engaged. Moreover, my face and body have transmorgified horrifically. I went to bed as a twenty-seven or possibly thirty-three years-old. Now, looking in the mirror, if I didn't know better, I'd swear I was fifty-five.
When I turned out the lights, Reagan or possibly Bush the Elder was president. I was very optimistic about the future; we had won the Cold War, and there'd been a little fracas in the Middle East or Afghanistan somewhere, but we'd gone in and kicked tail, and we knew we wouldn't have anymore trouble of out them ever again.
When I went to sleep, the one thing you could count on was that real estate would go up in value.
When I went to sleep, I didn't have liver spots on my hands.
I woke up this morning, and all my favorite songs had moved from the Top 40 station to the Oldies radio station.
I went to sleep having spent hours transferring all my old LPs and cassette tapes to CDs. Now I can't find my CDs.
When I went to sleep, my parents-in-law were in wonderful shape and doing fine and were generally fun to be around. Now a caregiver goes to their house each day, but that is not enough, and Nancy and her sister must go down to help out, often for days and weeks at a time. They are old and in chronic pain. My father-in-law can barely stand straight and my mother-in-law has Alzheimer's.
I wonder what they were like before they went to sleep last night.