strike that

ergonomics

This morning I don’t feel like getting out of bed.

Partly because for the past two mornings I’ve had to get out of bed when the first digit on the clock was a big green 4, albeit a 4 followed by a 55 but a 4 nonetheless, in order to open the coffee shop. And partly because I haven’t been sleeping so well, which is exceedingly unusual for me. Give me a seat in a speeding Latin American public bus filled with sunlight, smoke, and a practicing death metal band, and I can still nap serenely. But not this week. This week my room feels too bright and too warm and I wake up listening for something, and when I fall asleep again I have restless dreams.

And partly, perhaps, because today is the last weekday for a while when I have no schedule whatsoever. I have things to do, but I can do them when I like. Whereas next week I will have five days of three jobs, and well… Hooray. But I’m enjoying this morning in bed all the same. I read a great article on Bill Clinton from a three-month-old New Yorker. I breakfasted on pretzels and dark chocolate. I wrote a letter and glued some things into my journal.

At no point have I gotten out from under my covers, so this tells you a bit about the things I keep close at hand. And considering I can also reach my laptop, my radio, my cell phone, a lunchbox full of art supplies, and a dozen books, I could pretty much stay here indefinitely. But I’m thinking maybe just until noon.

Then again I might go get some rice pudding from the fridge. There’s no motivation like the prospect of Second Breakfast. Sometimes I just love being an adult.

posted by tortaluga @ 10:39 AM