It is exhausting to wake up after sleepless hours, of mulling over the most confusing puddle, beside the bed - one has stepped into, instead of one's slipper, after a 3 am struggle out of a pee dream.
Then comes morning, or noon, much too soon, after having jumped to all sorts of conclusions, having spent sleep time to figure out the mystery, rather than to fall back to sleep.
At least the sheepish realization that the potted plant is now enjoying the outside, weathering a rainy, stormy Spring and no longer shares the last of your night time cup of sips, is solid consolation - that. 
at 1777142099000
- Sledge and Krisargent like this
