Tiredness comes in several forms and are more easily embraced than others. What are the levels of tiredness—let me list the ways.

You’ve got your run-of-the-mill somnambulistic laziness. The kind that hits you on hazy summer days when it’s just too hot to move and too humid to do something about it beside sleeping. That’s the kind of tiredness folk tend to like right until the point they wake up two hours later, disoriented and sweaty. I’m prone to that on Sunday afternoons after several hours at church and a decent dinner.

Then there’s the tiredness that hits a person after studying for a test or lifting too many weights or a long day of work. The body feels a bit shaky and you’re not sure if you can do anything else when you blink and wake up at nine a.m. realizing you’re running late.

How about the tiredness that hits when your sick? Where you don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing but you know you can’t do it anyway. Rolling around, moaning and thinking that death is nigh interspersed with fitful sleep sessions.

Then there’s exhaustion. That’s what happens when you’re working on several magazine covers and features, sleeping on the floor, inhaling paint (stain and thinner) fumes, raking, painting, re-routing your cable wiring through the ceilings, moving furniture, shopping, waking up way too early and playing with the kids before they go to bed, studying the ramifications of individual election (theological term: feel free to skim) and finishing the day at midnight (for the fourteenth night) by writing a post for your personal blog.

I’m sure there may be other levels of tiredness, but I don’t care about them right now. My floor-serving-as-bed beckons.