I love really early mornings and the utter peace and quiet of them. I love feeling as if I’m the only person in the world awake at that moment. Almost as if I’m the only person in the world, period. Just me and my lazy cats.
I wish I could wake up early enough each day to enjoy at least one hour of darkness before the sun starts to lighten the day. I’d sit by the window with a cup of coffee close by... and not because I need it, but because it’s the cool adult thing to do. (And if I couldn’t be cool in my teens, then I’d at least like to be cool as I start to eye thirty angrily from across the room.)
I'd flip on the computer and read or write or spend a happy hour searching for anything Twilight-related as the sky turned from black to dark blue, from dark blue to gray as dawn spread across the overcast sky.
Much later, I'd nap. Sometime during the middle of the day, during the warmest hours of the day. I'd fall asleep on the sofa with the sun shining through the windows while everyone else is at work.
That would be nice.
But the sad truth is that I wasn’t scheduled to work until ten o'clock this morning, I set my alarm for 8:30 and I still hit the snooze when the damn thing jolted me awake.
Mornings and me... we just don't get along.
(Luke. Luke knows how to nap.)