Five days a week, working owls lead the lifestyle of larks. The life of an owl in the city is hard around the clock. It is believed that the worst thing in the life of an owl is morning. I want to open your eyes. This is a deplorable delusion. The life of an owl in the city is hard around the clock.
Very bad in the morning. Five days a week, working owls lead the lifestyle of larks. But a true lark easily and happily leaves the bed, without waiting for the wake-up signal. And owls (or forced larks) want to sleep.
The heaviest share falls on disciplined owls. They also want to sleep (and how!), But, having heard the vigorous howl of the alarm clock, they carry out large-scale educational work with themselves and in the end break away from the bed. The work is not only educational, but also arithmetic. They strained to count what time they went to bed, how many hours they slept, and they bring themselves upright, only vowing to themselves to go to bed early today. On these manipulations, owls spend almost all the strength accumulated during a short, but deep sleep.
It only gets worse further. Without waking up completely, the owl takes inside a cup of the strongest coffee, which does not contribute to awakening, but, according to rumors (and owls tend to listen to the opinion of experts), it should help to lift the closed veins.
Remaining in the same somnambulistic state, the owl moves to the office by all available means. At the same time, she tends to perform work mainly mechanical. All creative forces are directed towards thoughts of a healthy and delightful sleep, preferably for many hours. In his imagination, and in such a situation it is played out in earnest, the owl sleeps, but somehow especially sophisticated.
This continues until about six o'clock in the evening. And a gradual advance towards the coveted lodge begins. During these hours, the owl suffers even more than in the morning. Because he knows very well: the bed is close, but you won't bite. And the morning half-asleep intention to go to bed early will not help. It can't help, because the owl is a nocturnal bird, and you can't get away from it. Caught in the evening at times in the area of its nest … the owl wakes up completely.
And when the owl wakes up, it goes hunting. She usually hunts in her own refrigerator. The more abundant the prey, the less thoughts about sleep. The less thoughts about sleep, the greater the appetite. After all, everything is connected in nature in general and in the body of an owl in particular.
The owl feeds until about midnight, well, until one in the morning, that's how it goes. Only one thought can stop the owl in this process: if you empty the refrigerator, then the overweight organism may not take off tomorrow.
The owl knows very well from his own experience that the evening zhor catastrophically fills her slender body. The tragedy of the owl lies in the fact that this knowledge manifests itself only in the morning hours, which have already been mentioned. In the evening, the same perfectly reasonable thoughts do not make any impression on the owl. She eats thoughtlessly, but one thought still lives in her: it's time to sleep, it's time to sleep, to rasp.
She suffers from this thought unspeakably, and only for the simple reason that the transition to a horizontal position is just as painful for a real owl as getting up in the morning.
To slightly reduce the amount eaten and facilitate the change in the orientation of the body in space can only be telephone conversations with fellow misfortunes. If the conversation drags on, then by half past one in the night the owl is almost ready to snuggle up to the pillow. Sometimes she succeeds.
But this is not the end of the suffering given to the owl for a day. The owl carefully performs a number of rituals. And just as in the morning she drinks coffee without fail, thinking that it will make her feel better, at two in the morning she without fail picks up a book and reads. She loves the book not only because she owes her the best in herself, but also purely utilitarian. The owl thinks that without the book she will not fall asleep. This is her owl delusion - in fact, an owl can most likely fall asleep instantly and without a book: by this moment she is again like a somnambulist, the lines merge, the pages slip out of her hands all the time, then the book falls … the owl falls asleep, almost fainting, practically dreamless.
This swoon, which does not last much, only a few hours - the alarm clock will ring soon - the owl considers the happiest time of the day. And then all over again.
The worst thing is that any owl is glad that it is an owl.
An owl may dream of becoming a lark, but it is a chimera. A self-respecting owl will never sincerely want or be able to change.
