It was hard to get up this morning. I (sort of) woke up at 4 AM, checked my alarm, and decided in my half-awakened state that 6:30 was a completely irrational time for me to get up. This sort of thing has happened in the past - usually resulting in me setting my alarm for 9ish AM, or possibly later. Most fortunately, this did not occur this morning (especially since Lewis didn't set his alarm at all), and the more reasonable time I settled upon was just 1/2 hour earlier - 6.
I use the term "fortunately" very lightly here. Truth be told, when my alarm went off a full forty-five minutes before I was ready to even consider getting up (6:30 with a 15 minute snooze) I was mad as all get out. Sure, it meant that I was able to get up in time to be where I needed to be when I needed to be there. But, shoot. It sucked.
It was mostly so miserable because of the realization I came to this morning, after this horror of the alarm occurred: this is never going to end! I get up and go to school every morning with graduation at the back of my mind - after which I can sleep in again, right? Wrong!
This pattern of waking up super early is never going to end.
You see, I am going to be a teacher. As you may know, I am currently doing an internship at an Elementary school (unrelated to the teaching thing). I arrive at the school sometime between 7:30 and 8 every morning. By the time I get there, most of the teachers have already been there for at least a half an hour. Which means that when I'm (finally) done with college, I will start a job which requires me to be out and about even earlier than now!
Well, what if I decide to spend a few years at home to raise my kids? Will I get to sleep in then? Not if my kids take after me, I won't. I remember getting up as a wee one and participating in my mother's early morning seminary class. What the heck was wrong with me? I mean, really! I had the chance - for just the short period of time that was my childhood - to sleep in. To enjoy my bed and the comfort found there. And I miffed it. Odds are good that my children will miff it too. Dummies.
Now I understand why my parents tried to get us to go to bed at 9 every night.
I thrive on weekends. Weekends are when we can sleep in and relax in bed and get up at our leisure. Nothing is dictated by a blaring alarm. Even after we wake up, we can just chill underneath the covers and maybe surf the introwebs, all from the comfort of our own bed (thank goodness for laptops!) I love it. It's the best thing in the world. Until Lewis decides it's time to get up and takes all the covers with him. Jerk.
1 comment:
Why does Lewis need the covers if he's getting up? Does he shower with them?
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