Did sleep

Wandering around last night, complaining of how tired I was. Hannah says: “Then don’t stay up late watching ‘Pretty in Pink’!” She has a point. But doesn’t she understand that that’s the movie where I first really heard Otis Redding’s brilliant “Try a Little Tenderness” (and long failed to find a mix that even approximated the excellent mix in the movie soundtrack)? Doesn’t she understand the joy of complaining that whoever chose the music really just had to completely ignore the subject matter of the Psychedelic Furs’ title track? Doesn’t she get the appeal of a pre-“Designing Women” Annie Potts, who here represents the dichotomy of an aging punkette who loves huge, femmy dresses?
Anyway, “Pretty in Pink” wasn’t on last night. But “The Wild Angels” was!
No, I went to sleep. I was THAT tired.
Like my daughters, I view sleep as a moral failure.
Received disturbing news about family members through our mutual tax preparer. There couldn’t be a stranger way to hear such things. Not sure what to do with it, other than nothing, until somebody calls to tell me and I get to act all surprised, instead of saying, “Yeah, our tax preparer told me.”