I was in bed at 10:45 last night. I found a book that I read eons ago, and never finished. It’s called “Wyoming Summer” by Mary O’Hara, the woman that also wrote “My Friend Flicka” (one of my all time favorites). I guess I was bored by page 2, since I was out about 10 minutes into it. But at midnight, I was up. Wide awake for a couple hours. And of course, this morning, I was up at 7am, as per usual.
Note to self:
Do not go to bed before midnight.
What's on your mind?