This morning was a morning like any other.
I was in bed, listening to the sounds of Carole doing things industriously around the house. Everything she does is done with a great sense of purpose, pre-work, and there is never any doubt that she is up and wide awake. As I have mentioned before, she is not descended from a long line of ninjas. Because there is no way ninjas that noisy could survive long enough to have a long line.
I tend to burn a bit of the midnight oil most nights, coming to bed at a time that would be considered late by most normal people. There are a few occasions when it is even considered late by me, because the time I actually go to bed is not the time I thought it was when I decided to go to bed. But that’s another story about the evils of being side-tracked.
So I tend to stay in bed in the morning until around 9ish. Ten at the latest. But even then I’m awake, I’m just browsing the internets or falling down a YouTube rabbit hole. Which happens. A lot. Or watching Discovery on Netflix. Or something.
This morning, as Carole left for work I was pretty awake. I was pretty ready for getting up, actually. Planning to get up not long after she left, stick some washing in, make some bread. All that sort of stuff.
Pretty awake. But, as I do, I just thought I’d stay in bed for another few minutes.
And then, apparently, I developed the sleep pattern of a student.
It was well after 11 when I woke up.
I felt dirty.
I still managed to tick off bits of my household to do list, and make bread, al before a short notice game popped up in the middle of the afternoon. So I’m classing it as a win.
But, ugh, I do not plan on doing that again.
Don’t get me wrong, I am refreshed as anything. I clearly needed the sleep – I didn’t need the weird dream, but I definitely needed the sleep.
But still… who gets up at that time in a morning.
I am so ashamed.