The contacts come out first. Maybe I’ll put on my comically large glasses and doodle around the house for a while, or watch an episode of whatever BBC cop drama currently has me in its clutches. Eventually the weight of the day  needs to come off with a good face-washing; I could conquer the world after I’ve washed my face. Around this time, I might pour myself a glass of red wine. Things are winding down in my little apartment- my two cats and the dog have signed a momentary peace treaty so that everyone can toast in front of the gas heater in peace, and I’ve begun the nightly dialogue with myself about what to read when I crawl into bed.

Brush your teeth. Gargle. Trip over a cat, get a glass of water, check to make sure the doors are locked, ask your husband if he minds that you leave the light on for a while.

Read.

“Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations.”

― Vladimir Nabokov

Written by Hannah