I grabbed a Kleenex and headed off to find last year's Claritin in the medicine cabinet.
I took one (NON-DROWSY, they said. NON-DROWSY!) and returned to bed to read Carl Scovel's lovely little book of essays, Never Far From Home, hoping to relax and get drowsy enough to go back to sleep. Success! I got drowsy and went back to sleep.
I awoke at ten minutes past noon.
Total shock. Jaw-dropping horror. I pulled the clock to me, wondering if the cat had figured out how to push it ahead for an April Fool's joke. I think the last time this happened was about ten years ago, and it was just as terrifying then. Where did those hours go? I dreamed a lot, I drooled a lot, and cripes, I must have needed the sleep.
Now I'm (not so frantically) working on my sermon and I have BANJO at 4:30.
It's warm and the daffodils are up.