When I woke up this morning, I was so disoriented, I could not figure out where I was. After having been on a tour of the state, plus veering off into the one to the north east, it was so confusing to come up out of sleep, strangely, my own bed. I felt lost. I always wake up in the middle of the night and make a run down the hall, usually getting right back to sleep. I didn't really have time to sort it out, when my bladder said 'go', but when I woke up the second time, I was completely baffled.
You know how it is to go on a trip, be away from home, and wake up in a 'strange' bed? When the usual sources of ambient lighting have mysteriously rearranged while you were sleeping, and the things that usually give off just enough for you to orient yourself are missing. Those things like clocks with luminous dials, moonshine outside the window, or street lights in the distance, providing just enough glow to light your way in the dark to get to the bathroom at 2:00 a.m. Or the light in the kitchen that is 'always' on, never switched off at night for years, providing just enough direction in the dark to keep you from tripping over furniture.
When I finally figured it out: and knew that I had settled into my own little space, I also realized that I had slept in three different beds in the past four days. Which, I my opinion, justifies the confusion. But that same confusion also gives a small taste of what I expect the constant anxiety in the elderly is like. Not something to really look forward to with gleeful anticipation... considering the DNA swirling around in my person.
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