...that is the question, and the answer -for I am very tired - wooo, very Shakspeareanish. Hmm, Shakespeare ...let's give that a whirl.
When the sun this morning did rise - who did call to myself with her little voice demanding that the nights fast be broken, but the lovely Maid Maren. My body and mind did long for more of such sweet, sweet sleep. Doth not this child know it is the day of Satur? Hath she not something better to do. Alas, no. Ah Bed, parting is such sweet sorrow.
Arise and face the Day of Satur! Such cleaning, such laundering, such Christmas program praticing shall be done. What? What say you? The practice is not of this day, but starts next week? We have dressed! We have partaken of lousy breakfast food in order to be on time! Next week? Surely you jest! But alas, tis true.
Ah Bed, you call to me - if sleep be the food of love, snore on!