I like to get up early (having a dog helps) but, especially in an election year, I don't want to miss The Daily Show. (I don't want to miss Colbert either, but that's right around when lying down on the couch starts to seem like a much better idea than sitting up.)
I woke up tired this morning (the joys of Friday!) and thought of Macbeth:
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,The first line always made me think of a falling-apart sweater that needed refurbishing (or maybe an artfully deconstructed Rick Owens piece), but as it turns out, a "sleave" is not an archaic misspelling but a now-obsolete term for a skein of silk, and I like the idea of the tangled, tender strands of an awful day being rearranged by a good night's slumber.
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast,--"
And lately, my mind is hurting.