Yep. Right on the cusp. Teetering on the edge before drifting through an ever anxious barrier toward complete unconsciousness. Peaceful slumbers are rare, especially the moments that surround it’s perimeter at either end of the ritual. Though we must try.
“Sleep those little slices of death, how I loathe them” – Edgar Allan Poe or “A nightmare on elm St” depending on which artistic slant you take.
Then a sharp goodnight to all, a new day awaits. What of that day, well 90% of the outcome depends on you or I.
Now if I could just corral those stray thoughts. That should ease everything a bit.