Reviewing the day to reflect upon the things I noticed in order to share one singular item is a very enlightening practice.Seriously - it's a bonus that I did not anticipate.
Now, on to our regularly scheduled blog post.
It's 10:43PM, and I just got home about 15 minutes ago, and that's pretty typical once or twice every weekday. I've got to have some down time, or - in some cases, there's stuff I have to do. Work or personal, either way, it seems there's always something. So, it's almost 11PM, and I'll be up. For a while.
I know you feel my pain, some of you hardworking people out there.
I've always considered myself a night owl. But as I - ahem - "mature", I am losing my fondness and capacity for pushing through to midnight or 1:00AM with some consistency.
My husband has a fixed internal clock; his preferred mode of operation would be functioning until 3:00AM and sleeping til 10:00.
Unfortunately, until we retire and can do whatever we want, whenever we want, we're at the mercy of work schedules and bus schedules. For me, that means up at 6:00AM to get David on the bus.
And, truth be told, "get David on the bus" often means stumbling into the kitchen to say hello, prop myself up on the counter while he eats Fruit Loops and packs his own lunch, kiss him goodbye and say, "I love you have a great day" while I stifle a yawn, and then collapse on the couch, my second alarm set for 7:30. I steal 45 minutes of more sleep, which apparently fools me into thinking I got a good night's sleep...but six hours just doesn't cut it.
And it seems I cannot get into bed before midnight.
And then I often don't fall asleep until 1:00AM.
And the vicious cycle continues. Here it is, 11:00PM now, and I'll be in bed in an hour and up again at 6:00AM and not very happy.
And I think I've just gone off on a long, boring rant, rather than tell you what I noticed today...so...
Today, I dragged myself out of bed at 6:00, even though I'd been awake until 1:00AM. Unfortunately, I didn't have sufficient coherent thoughts to cook David breakfast, which is the one thing he really wants me to do every day. But I stayed awake, and I saw him out the door, and I knew I had a busy day ahead, so I walked right past that couch.
I went in the kitchen and emptied the dishwasher and reloaded it. I washed some pots and pans that were two big for the dishwasher. I drank what was left of the coffee Max had made when he had to get up at 3:00AM (don't even get me started on ARMY). I made more coffee. I walked outside and prayed underneath a glorious, fragile, pink sky. I worshiped with some powerful new music. I took care of some work emails. I did some reading. I caught up on some work assignments. I got dressed and got my face and hair ready.
And by 8:30, I was awake and ready for the day. It was a slow process, but it worked. I walked into work ready for coherent conversation, which is unusual (I have a reputation for being brain dead until about 10:00AM).
I worked hard all day - accomplished a lot - and I think giving myself time to wake up slowly instead of steal a little more sleep made all the difference.
My boss says that the holiest people get up early.
My mom gets by on four or five hours of sleep every night.
I'm not saying they are right, but maybe...just maybe...I see the benefit of being awake and alive in those early morning hours.
It worked today, anyway. It changed my mood, and I noticed.
And now I'm going to bed.
Well, in a minute...