No... It isn't "Folgers in your cup", it is the realization that you "did not die before you wake"...
Real quick... "If I die before I wake, let the deity who decided I need to die in my sleep keep my soul"... Fantastic logic. Kiddies, he does not like you... Killed your punk ass while you were sleeping!
I love waking up. Some days more than others, sure, but I truly love that part of the day. It has not been corrupted yet. It has not been soiled by news, or outside influence.
I have my own little ritual. More of a checklist.
I ask myself my name. Self Actualization faculties, CHECK.
I wiggle my fingers and toes. Nervous System, Fully functional.
Respiration? 100% good to go. (8+ years being smoke free will do that. Olden days... 73%?)
Location: Earth. Close enough!
Ready for the Day? Snooze button engaged.
I have risen in very different circumstances over the years. The first question during the more "unmarried USAF" years was, "And who is this lying next to me?", followed by "Who's room is this?"
Having been married three times, and subsequently divorced three times, there is a gift/curse to going from waking up next to someone consistently, to waking up alone. The gift aspect is that you can spread over to the "cool" side of the bed with out someones feet impeding your incursion into virgin territory.
The curse is you can not enjoy an incursion into not so virgin territory. Morning sex being some of the best in the world. Schedules dictate that there is not a lot of muss or fuss... Get busy, get done, watch the morning breath... Although, a recent lady friend brought to my attention that those dissolving breath strips you put on your tongue... Priceless.
I remember waking up in Augusta, KS. In the State St. apartment... On the waterbed... Was the winter of 1992. The reason I remember this morning is because the heating element of the water bed had quit and X1 had opened the window or kicked out the glass, I forget which. I have been cold, and I have been really fucking cold. This was the later.
The not so best way to wake up is called "Revelry". In basic training, the alarm clock is a bugle blast, which makes one think the sounding of the third horn of the Apocalypse has been blown. "And the seas shall boil, and all your hair shall be cut-eth off". It got to the point that you were up and moving before the actual clarion call... You heard the hushed buzz, the hiss/crackle of the air of the intercom to the barracks click on... And you were in motion.
I have woken to the sounds of flying, screaming death. In Turkey, the tents were close to the end of the runway. I was on swing shift, and working out for four hours, in the gym, until about three in the morning. I got to the point where I could sleep through F-16's, F-15's, and the Brit's Tornados. Those cursed F-4 Wild Weasel's, though... Even Satan would knock on the ceiling of hell and scream, "Knock it the fuck off, for Christ's sake!"
There was a day, with X2, I woke up, but knew full and well I would be going back to sleep. She had to go to work or something, and I did not. I rolled over, and in some miraculous, accidental configuration of limbs... I found the Nirvana of sleeping positions... The most comfortable I have ever been in a bed when not engaging in sexual congress... Hell, it was the most comfortable I might have ever been. Period. It was glori-Aaaaand X2, grabs my shoulder to kiss me goodbye for the day... I cried and, to this day, still recall those five to seven seconds... Have never found it again...
Weirdly, I am not a fan of naps. I may have one or two a year, but I am more worried about them having a detrimental effect. Those naps where you wake up feeling worse than you did before the damn nap. Bastard nap!!!!
Now that I have lived on my quasi-own for a spell, I use an alarm clock. I have it on the other side of the room. I have to exit the bed, hit the snooze, or cease the alarm on the weekends... The quasi part comes in form of the damn dog.
Lily has a very cold nose. I have a very low lying bed. There is not a more effective alarm than having a dog poke her nose somewhere "delicate". Since her "Whatever That Was" last summer, she has learned to let me sleep in... IT ONLY TOOK 7.5 YEARS! Way to go, Bitch! I slept in to 8 AM a couple weekends back... Woo...
In that snooze button time of 10 minutes... I really don't go back to sleep, unless I really tore it up the night before... No... After the earlier checklist, the day is planned. The course set. This, while sprawling out for the cool spots under the covers...
It is my most optimistic time of the day. By the time I grab the keys, and head out the door... That is gone. The big, bad world is now in play. And it is out for blood.
Bring it on,
d
This long overdue blog brought to you by The Foo Fighters, The Donnas, Girls Against Boys, Led Zeppelin, The Brothers Johnson, Jerry Cantrell, White Zombie, The Presidents of The United States of America, The Rolling Stones, Korn, Dethklok, and Stevie Ray Vaughn & Double Trouble.
Apologies for the absence the past couple of weeks. It was an anniversary. See last years 3/11 blog... All ya need to know.
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