As a matter of fact, I DON'T just bound out of bed every morning, awaiting the moment when creatures of the forest will magically appear to dress me. (Though, come to think of it, those of you who have met me wouldn't be surprised if I did get dressed by cloven hoofed animals.) This morning just seemed darker and chillier than most, the kind of morning that makes it impossible to get up.
I blame this on daylight savings time. It never hits me right after the time change but a few weeks later when you realize, holy cow, it's dark at 5:30. This SUCKS. And the body shuts down, and it's SO. HARD. TO. WAKE.
But then I do, and the ritual involves strenuously extracting myself from bed. The downside to a pillowtop mattress is that the day begins with an athletic feat just to get out of bed, which I imagine looks athletic only when you allow that the term athlete applies to several relief pitchers whose BMI is somewhere in the 100s. Once I'm upright in bed, there's the exploratory foot on the floor as I feel around for anything furry down there that might be my 11 year old lab. An eternal mystery to me, she can only relax fully when she's in danger of being trampled. (The fact that she's the color of the hallway carpet means that I trip over her at least twice a day, and every time it happens she gives me this offended look that suggests strongly that it's my fault.)
Assuming I've navigated this far, both of the dogs will try their best to tag team me into falling down somewhere between the bedroom and the bathroom. They will insist, under questioning, that it's merely their exuberance at the fact that I'm awake and survived the descent from the bed, but really, it's because they're starving, not having eaten for a whole TWELVE HOURS. I am no fool: either feed them immediately or they will be forced to eat me. I just wish they wouldn't look so giddy about it.
Then, there's coffee. And while I brew it strong, it was no match for the morning's gloom.
Taking a page out of Hollywood wannabes, I am now attempting to 'fake it, till I make it.' Join forth and see the circus freak as she now attempts her latest trick: sitting upright, eyes open, looking mostly awake.
How many more months until spring?
