Rest is for the weak

I used to be a morning person. I used to love to go to bed early and wake up early. Perhaps, I only did it because my mother valued that ability. Maybe I only did it out of necessity. When my daughter was young, I had no choice but to bend to her schedule. Now that she is older and more self-sufficient, I can insert my own preferences, even on the days I have her with me.

On days I am not in full-on mom-mode, I go to bed late and sleep in late. I feel like a rebel. On the days I can’t sleep in due to life commitments, I still go to bed late. I have learned that one night with only a few hours of sleep doesn’t really wreck me. When it stretches to two nights or more, that is a different story.

Sometimes I reflect on if I miss going to bed early and waking up early. If I am honest with myself, the answer is not really. I gave up coffee in the morning months ago. I’ve never been one to need caffeine to jump start my day. What I really need to get me hopping out of bed with vim and vigor is something to look forward to. What in my day ahead can I not wait to accomplish? I miss that feeling. I miss having a purpose.

These days, I drag myself out from under the covers. I stay in bed for as long as my time and body allows. My brain is searching. Trying hard to find that spark that I once had. I know it is in there somewhere. Perhaps it will now emerge at 10am instead of at the break of dawn. Who knows? I just hope it finds its way back to me again soon because once this winter weather subsides, my bed will not feel so warm and cozy as it does now. On that note, I am off to slumber. It is nearly 2am and tomorrow, ahem, today, I don’t have any plans until lunch. Here I go again. Bed, prepare for my arrival!