Not a morning person

I’m terribly disturbed by the fact that I am wide awake before 8 am on a weekend. It just isn’t natural. I normally could easily stay asleep until noon on weekends, well, that’s what I would consider normal for me. I am a champion sleeper and napper. One of my former room mates was convinced there was something wrong with me, that only some one sick could be able to sleep as much as I did. It’s simple, I love my rest.

Ever since Mark started his current job, I’ve needed to get up early on a regular basis in time to catch the bus. Now it seems my internal clock has readjusted itself. Now without warning, without an alarm clock, 7 am rolls around and *ping* my eyes flutter open, my body telling me it’s ready to start the day. My mind in disbelief and dismay, desperately trying to convince my body that, ‘no! you really would rather stay in bed and stay asleep! what are you doing awake!’

I should have suspected something when I’m the one waking Greenbean in the mornings. Her habitual morning routine involves waking me by gently reaching out with her paw and touching my face and neck. This always occurs ten minutes before my alarm was scheduled to go off, no matter what time I set it for, she knows precisely when ten minutes of precious sleep are left. If I don’t stir, she plants herself on my pillow, on my head, until I get up. It is quite cute and endearing, that is why I tolerate it every morning. But lately I have been the one to poke at her head and remind her of her empty food dish.

It is a gorgeous morning though. The sun is rising on perfectly clear blue skies and burning off the thin veil of fog. It’s time to put on a pot of coffee and make something of this morning, even though I would prefer to still be blissfully asleep.