It’s 7.30 am here. Earliest I’ve got up for some time. Not that I’m one for laying in bed all day, you understand, but as I tend to keep late nights, particularly lately due to the NAB Radio project, it’s unusual for me to be up much before about 8.30am.
It’s a nice day out there so far – blue sky, sun shining, birds singing and all that good stuff. I’ve got a nice mug of hot strong coffee here whilst I write this – or I’d still be a half-sleeping wreck.
Ok, I am still a half sleeping wreck. I never wake up in the mornings rarin’ to go. Never have. Never will I guess. It would be nice to, but quite simply I don’t. On those rare occasions I go to bed early – like by ten pm – and sleep like a baby and wake up ten hours later, I still come to, feeling like dog-doo. In fact, if I go to bed early I tend to just wake up early – this morning being a point in case. Thing is it wasn’t that early. It was about midnight when I got into bed, and then I got into that book about The Great Depression – the historical event, not the medical condition.
Anyway, today, I’ve got stuff to do in Mount Pleasant. A laptop to look at, and a colleague to meet for lunch. Lunch? Sheesh, it’s too early for breakfast yet, by my reckoning. Of course, I’ll be hungry when it’s time to go out in about an hour and a half from now, but that’s something else I can’t ever do first thing in the morning – eat. I love my food, but I can’t eat when I wake up, one it’s the only time of day I’m not hungry, and two, it all tastes like cardboard until I’m awake.
Shoot, why did I wake up so early?
Oh, and to answer that question…. no I can’t go back to bed, because although I’m yawning my head off as I write this, if I get back into bed, I’ll be wide awake, thinking about all the stuff I should be doing if I wasn’t wasting time laying there.
Have a nice day now.
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