Sleepyhead

I’ve always—or at least since I had a morning paper route in seventh grade and would get up at 4:30 AM so I could be finished by 6:30 and back to bed for forty winks before bursting from the covers at 8:15 to be at Fulton Elementary by 8:30—been one of those annoying people commonly referred to as a “morning person.”

I like being up before anybody else. My favorite time of day is just after sunrise, when the streets are mostly empty and you get to see—especially if you’re out on a bike—all the detritus from the night before, including, if you’re lucky, some people in evening wear doing the infamous walk of shame. On Sundays, I’m happy to be at the coffee shop before 8:00, when I can almost always be assured of my favorite table and I never have to wait in line behind people ordering double-tall half-caf no-foam mochaccinos to get my mug of drip coffee.

My plan for this summer has been to rise most days by six so I can be out the door to practice yoga and back at home reading the paper by nine; I managed to do that a few days prior to going away on vacation and it seemed like the model for the remainder of July and August.

However.

These last few days, it’s all I can do to crawl my way out of the sack by 7:30 or so. My alarm goes off at 6:01, I take a look at it, change the wake-up time to 7:01, and then when it goes off at that time, snooze for another half an hour or so. And it’s not like I’m going to bed at all hours; it’s just that it feels so good to keep dozing.

Too bad you can’t “bank” sleep; I could definitely use these hours come September when school starts.

But enough of this; time now for a nap.