I promise, I tried to get to bed early last night. It had been a long day. I tried. Didn’t quite make it, but I’ve had later bedtimes on work nights, so there you go.
Anyway I was happily snoozing, until I suddenly woke. Outside it was light. I lay there for a minute or two, listening to the birdsong. Damn birds always seem so cheerful, no matter how early it is. How early was it? If it’s possible to stumble while lying horizontal in bed, then I did so, as I turned to look at the clock. 5:something.
Argh. 5:something. There’s only one sensible reason to be up and awake at 5:something. Some people would say it’s having partied all night, but I don’t think I have the energy for that. No, in my book 5:something should involve transcontinental flights and moving between time zones.
Oh how I wanted it to be 7:something, or at least 6:something, so I could at least pretend I’d got a good night’s sleep. But no, it was definitely 5:something.
I rolled over and tried, not entirely successfully, to get some more sleep. The birds kept twittering, but I must have got a little sleep, because the next thing I remember is my alarm clock going off. 6:40. Not actually the time I intended to get up (must have forgotten to reset it after Monday’s early start), but certainly a better time to start the new day.
Yawn. I feel tired just thinking about it. Maybe time for a nap.
