I love sleep. Like a lot. I think it's my best friend, well, at least it is if I don't count husbands, people friends, puppy friends, or inanimate objects. Which I don't, for right now.
You know that moment when your alarm goes off, the sun is slicing through the blinds, and it's time to start your day. I HATE that time! In fact, I never accept my alarm clocks first ring. I scoff at it, tell it I have five more minutes, and roll over. "You don't own me" I send over ESP waves.
What is it about sleep that is so glorious? It could be my super comfortable bed (which also happens to be super warm). It could be the fact that it's so very relaxing. I really don't know. Most of the time, I try not to question it.
Alas, the time has come for me to question the sleep status quo. This morning I had this lovely little plan to get my butt out of bed to run. I planned to get up at 6:30. An hour later, I was finally getting out of bed and no longer had time to run. Which made me feel pretty crummy the rest of the day, no matter that I was gloriously rested.
Since not sleeping isn't an option and not running needs to not be an option, my newest life plan is just to get in bed earlier. We'll see how that pans out since I like staying up late; but, it's the most agreeable out of all three. So here I am, blogging at 9:30 p.m before getting ready for bed.
I may be living like an old person, but at least I'll be a physically fit and well rested old person. I'm doing Jack Lalanne proud!
Dude. Isaac is having to get up at 4:30 for work now. Which means we are rocking the 9 p.m. bedtime. We literally ate dinner at 4 Monday night. We're too old for the old people.
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