I heard a joke once that went something like this: I’m really good in bed. I could sleep for days. I get that.

These days, my ultimate fantasy is to sleep in. That’s it. Nothing racy or exciting. For me, it’s turning off the alarm and rolling back over instead of crawling out at 5 am.

Even as I type these words, I’m yawning. It’s funny how those things that seemed like cruel and unusual punishments as a kid — having to go to bed early, staying inside, going to your room — now almost seem like rewards. At this point in my life, I’d rather be in bed and asleep before 10 than to be downtown somewhere until the wee hours of the morning. That to me sounds like a punishment these days.

I used to be more of a night owl. I confess that I’ve never been an early bird, even with the waking up early. I endure solely because of caffeine.

So I have one more sleep until I get to sleep in? I think I can do that.