Too early, too soon after hard-to-fall-asleep hours and then a deep, exhausted plunge filled with interesting/odd plot trails...interrupted - what's going on?...pitch black outside my window.
Morning moments of a voice too loud with too many words: "Want some eggs this morning, honey? How about some eggs?" Loving insistence on starting the day together; sleepy cheek pressed against his flannel shirt; coffee fumes wafting from the mug on the bedside table; I prop myself up and focus on the steadily growing grey light outside my window.
Never thought of myself as a grumpy-not-to-be-awakened type person but more like, "I'm owed a better quality sleep so let me get it even it if takes me more hours than you" kind of person. But honestly, often times those "extra" hours don't yield better quality sleep at all but almost-awake, weird dreams that many times create a strong sensation of needing to open my eyes but finding, in my horrible dream that I cannot. Might as well wake up early after all to see the grey, November drizzle outside my window.
I love your word pictures! You have such a gift for creativity, Mom.
ReplyDeleteOur sleep needs must be in the genes. Mornings just don't come easy.