Of yesterday

I can tell you a thing or two about exhaustion. Yesterday, by the time it was evening I found myself utterly done with.
Once the dinner was done, dishes washed and the kitchen cleaned up, I sat on the couch, watched some Dwayne Johnson movie and read the remaining few chapters of the book I'm currently reading and there I was, almost congealed into a shape that I sat in, unwilling to move.
I was stratified.
The only movements I willed myself to do after that was change into night clothes and slither into bed.
It was cold, the bed felt unwelcoming but I didn't care.
Sleep was waiting with breath that was bated.
We met and it was instant.
I don't know if sleep and exhaustion are correlated because many times during my insomniac bouts my exhaustion refuses to merge with sleep, but I'm happy to report that these days I've not had much such problems.
To not wake up in the morning was a decision I'd made last night after lunch was packed and refrigerated.
I woke up with enough time to do some chores and now I sit, serenely, listening to some music, contemplating tea and wondering if I should I have a larger cup today.