Waking up is the hardest part of my day.
Who would have thought that working seven days a week, going Blues Dancing on Thursday and Friday nights, and occasionally going clubbing on a Saturday would make me a zombie during my workday. It’s no wonder my body doesn’t want to move at 7AM. I find it highly surreal when I’m up and moving, but my breathing pattern is still that of a deep slumber – slow and steady.
Plus, it’s not helpful that I’ve never been a morning person.
So I’m tired. But I’ve always been tired. My whole existence I’ve had the tendency to run myself as thin as possible. But once I get enough coffee in my system and start moving around, I usually perk up. And as long as I get at least 6 hours of sleep, I’m able to function with epic skill. I used to be alert on just 3 hours, sigh, getting old.
Then there’s days like today.
Today I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t even want to dance. All I want is to cuddle with a pretty girl while watching musicals and drinking coffee/tea/milk/beer/juice/cider/wine – whatever tasty beverage that’s around will do.
Is that too much to ask?