The world is an entirely different place at 6 in the morning.
I rarely see this hour.
Over my three days of alone time I totally screwed up my sleep. Without anything or anyone to wake up for I slept until I wasn't tired anymore. Which meant that I slept until almost 3 in the afternoon last Friday. (I must have been really tired!) Which meant that I couldn't fall asleep at all that night. And the damage was done.
But when I felt unexpectedly tired at 9 last night, I followed my husband to bed* and hoped that my problem was solved.
But I was wide awake by 1 a.m. and couldn't stand to stay in bed another moment.
I so fervently wish that I could be a morning person. This morning I got to hang out and chat with my husband while he got ready for work. I got to spend some quality time with my son who is sickeningly happy in the morning. He was even dancing! And I got to sip coffee while the men in my life had bacon and eggs. It was nice.
I feel like if I could just wake up at 6 a.m. every morning my life would be so much better. All of my problems would be fixed. I'd be the kind of person who exercises and folds laundry right out of the drier. I'd be the kind of person who saves money and has a hobby. I'd be the kind of person who has a clean house and...does stuff.
My teeth would be white. My hair would blow in a constant wind. And I'd wear...outfits!
I could star in my own herpes commercial!
But, alas, even typing this entry has taxed me too much. A morning of penance for a long weekend full of sloth could never turn me into what I most certainly am not; a white-teethed, blowing-haired, non-slothed exerciser who folds laundry whilst scrapbooking and balancing my checkbook.
I pretty much am the stereotypical housewife who sits on her fat ass eating bon bons all day and it is time I embrace it! After I go have a nap.
This morning sun is killing me.
* Get your minds out of the gutter. We don't do that sort of thing. We're old married people, one of whom is covered in poison ivy.