The not-Knot

Why is it that I can never find that truly comfortable "Aaaaahhhhh" place in bed until an hour before I need to get up? Even in my sleep I can feel it. The vertebrae shift. The knee rotates. Hands turn up. Muscles go limp. Bam. There it is. Completely neutral. Completely relaxed. Precisely comfortable.

I can try to get to the comfortable position before that last hour, but I can never find it. It's never the same as the night before. And never intuitive. It's like my body is one giant Rubik's cube that I need to twist and roll and twist again. Or like some top secret code that I have to crack. Until, something, some enigmatic twitch, and it all clicks into place.

Before that click moment, I would have been happy to get up. "This is useless!" My neck all kinked up. My back all kinked up. My whole body is just one convoluted kinkfest. And it would actually be a relief to give up and get on with my day.

But once that little knot unties, there's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be. Sweet, sweet lethargy. But lethargy salted with dread - the alarm is coming. Now forcing me to do, what 5 minutes ago I would have volunteered to do. In the moment, it's so good. And it will be so short. That, my friends, is the definition of bittersweet.