One of the best feelings in the world is sleepiness.
I’m not talking about being tired. Tired has connotations of work, exhaustion, being stretched out and used up. Tired isn’t pleasant, when your eyes are hurting and your bones are heavy and you just need to keep going because you’re so far from being able to rest. Tired is sitting on a bus knowing you have more connections to make before you can get home. Tired is trudging through snow, slumped shoulders, one foot in front of the other. Tired is irritated phrases spat out, eye-rubbing, sighing. There’s nothing cute or soft about tired.
Tired, I don’t like.
I’m talking about sleepy. I’m talking about curling up with your feet under you, a cup of steaming hot chocolate (white chocolate for me please) in your hands and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Sleepy is blinking slowly as you wind down, scratching your pet of choice behind the ears and thinking of bed. It’s half-listening to your favourite film as your thought processes start to shut down one by one, until you’re in that soft and fluffy space between awake and asleep.
It’s burrowing deeply into your duvet, book in hand, or even phone in hand, only half paying attention to the world around you. It’s remembering half-forgotten dreams and hoping you’ll revisit them tonight. It’s listening to the rhythm of your house, the wind and the rain outside.
Sleepy is forehead kisses and cheek strokes, shoulder-resting and cuddles. Tired is irritated phrases spat out, flinches, eye-rubbing.
May all of your evenings be sleepy.