I"ve always been a little lazy about mornings. I think the only times I bound out of bed with energy is when I have something to do immediately--something exciting (like running a race or travelling), or something pressing (like having to finish grading or work). So it has been especially hard that this recent time has been punctuated for me by early morning clarity.
I hate early morning clarity. It literally makes me sick to my stomach; like the surge of hormones in a pregnant woman's body suddenly pooling nausea in her belly and throat, my morning clarity seizes my entire digestive tract. The snooze on the alarm isn't enough to cloud the thoughts streaming in like daylight; the thoughts are already burrowed in my mind, and only a new deep sleep would erase them. If only I had gotten drunk the night before, I think with grim sadness, I could have slept through it. But now I'm too restless for a return, so I fitfully toss around my bed, amongst pillows and cats, and I do something like moan. Moan is the right term, although no sound comes out--a silent moan into bright morning air.
I hate early morning clarity. It literally makes me sick to my stomach; like the surge of hormones in a pregnant woman's body suddenly pooling nausea in her belly and throat, my morning clarity seizes my entire digestive tract. The snooze on the alarm isn't enough to cloud the thoughts streaming in like daylight; the thoughts are already burrowed in my mind, and only a new deep sleep would erase them. If only I had gotten drunk the night before, I think with grim sadness, I could have slept through it. But now I'm too restless for a return, so I fitfully toss around my bed, amongst pillows and cats, and I do something like moan. Moan is the right term, although no sound comes out--a silent moan into bright morning air.
