Morning Is* Broken

[*That's the Long-Island way of referring to the Cat Stevens youth-ministry song that was in an orange juice commercial back in like 1979.]

My favorite time of day is are the first quiet hours. I really dig the hour or 2 after waking up (as long as it's not super-freezing and/or still dark) when most others are still asleep and I can sit with my coffee and let my thoughts arrange themselves somewhat spontaneously.

I tend to rouse early and quickly. Shortly after I exit the sleep state, I gotta get my ass out of bed. Occasionally - as on a Saturday like today - I will swear to myself that "I'm gonna sleep in", but without fail sometime between 6am and 8.30am I will wake up, completely lucid but feeling physically very comfy, then try to settle back in to sleep for another 30 minutes or so. This is when the uncontrollable body-fidgeting begins. I can't explain nor control it - but no position in which I configure my body is comfortable for more than like 30 seconds. It's similar to a bout of hyperactivity, but in a stop-motion sort of way. I basically begin sleep-pose 'vogueing' in succession until I a) get reprimanded or b) tire of anticipating getting reprimanded so I just give up and aufstehen.

I make coffee and boot up the news, etc. Until that peaceful quiet is broken by either teeth-grindingly loud construction or the presence of another.

That time just came.

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