Tired in the morning, a pattern?

Had a fine night of sleep last night after a couple of less good ones. You would think I would awake fully refreshed, but no. I am tired still.

What could it be? Am I a little tweaked from giving blood yesterday afternoon? Possibly. Apparently giving blood impacts various people differently. Am I beat up from playing tennis on hard courts yesterday? Could be. Certainly it is harder on the old joints than clay courts, and Z and I have had to make do with hard ones for the last few weeks as we work through this whole highly objectionable "winter" thing that has beset us of late. Is it COVID that I got while sitting with a mask off at the Red Cross place on University Drive in Durham yesterday, eating Cheez Its and cheap chocolate chip cookies (they had no Nutterbutters)? Probably not. But you never know. Or am I experiencing the cumulative effects of several years without a proper vacation after catching up with a client who was headed to the British Virgin Islands late in the day Monday? This is the most likely culprit, which is why I have set a proper two-week vacation as a goal for 2022. By which I mean sitting in one pretty place, not acting as the logistics and touring manager for my family in some exotic locale.

One thing that seems certain is that I am not worn out from watching the 2013 Muscle Shoals documentary last night. If you haven't seen it, I can't recommend it highly enough. It's a pretty amazing story at the heart of R&B, rock and roll and Southern Rock.