Time was when I spent the majority of my nights snuggled up with my laundry. Never very romantic, but I was a very single Daisy and being the petite flower that am, I really had very little use for the entire queen size bed. And being disinclined to folding my laundry after I washed it, I saw no reason why the giant pile of clothes shouldn't find repose on the empty side of the bed.

This was also the same period when I was perfectly capable of functioning just fine on 3-4 hours of sleep. Mime 3 and myself would venture out to concerts or movie previews three nights a week, usually making a stop for pancakes or late night Mexican food on the way home. I'd tumble into bed around 2 in the morning, only to be up by 6:00 to be teaching by 7:20, and I never felt I skipped a beat.

Apparently, in the last 10 years, I have gotten old.

This fact was pointed out to me yesterday afternoon during my first visit to the rock climbing gym in a month. The first run up a route, and I screwed up my back reaching for a hold.

I hurt my back.

The quintessential old guy joke was playing out on me, and all I could do was lie down on the mat a pry for the cramping muscle to relax so I could possibly stand back up again.

My back ached most of last night, contributing to my staying up until almost 5:00 a.m. Unlike my post-concert mornings of yore, however, I have had a sleep-deprived headache most of the day, and I'm going to be struggling to stay awake through dinner this evening.

And the laundry? Well, the Winged Monkey takes up a lot of space when he stays over, so the laundry has been relegated to the dresser. not in the dresser, mind you, but rather a giant pile on top of the dresser. Apparently laziness is something one doesn't outgrow, a fact that I find somewhat fortuitous, since otherwise I wouldn't be able to find my socks since I can't really bend over at the moment.