Morning time

I love mornings - a little too much I think.

I just can't bring myself to get out of bed sometimes. I love waking up and taking my time to really be apart of the world again. I love opening my eyes of my own free will and just smiling. Then turning on one of my favorite songs to either continue relishing the still-near-sleep state I'm in or to get up and twirl on my way to the bathroom to begin getting ready for the day (it is almost never the latter).

And at that I typically will come back to my bed after getting ready to sit and to ponder if I really am ready to leave my room and start life again.

I think that somewhere along the way I realized that when I leave my room, life begins, but if I stay in my room I get to pretend that life isn't really started and there is still so much beauty, mystery, excitement, and potential about the day ahead, instead of reality.

Hmmm, blogging about this and seeing it in front of me is making me think that I should probably work on this situation - maybe I will, and maybe I won't.

I also at some point love listening to my favorite songs and singing and dancing so much that going out in the freezing cold to catch the bus becomes less and less appealing. Then I rush to grab everything I need at the last possible moment and end up missing the bus by 27 seconds. It really seems to be a giant joke that I still think I'm going to make it every time, and continually get upset when I consistently miss it.

No one is perfect, right?

Who wants to bet that I miss the bus again this morning because I wanted to blog about the morning time more than get ready for life this morning?

Whatever.

Goodnight, dear void.