Daylight savings time

I used to love daylight savings time.
The extra hour gave me spark and zip to do extraordinary and amazing extra projects, finish tasks I had been putting off, or catch up on reading. Daylight savings used to give me an opp to watch the seasons change for an hour more each day.

Midlife and daylight savings, however, do NOT go together. Well, not for me anyway.
My sleep habits have always been sporadic. I'm usually ready for bed at 7pm, which of course is ridiculous, as I'm in a yoga class somewhere or at the grocery, and itis most inappropriate to bring one's sleeping bag and plop down in aisle 6. So I push through. The night rolls on, my body begins to fade into undeniable exhaustion, and I find myself dragging upstairs by 10- down for the short count by 11 or 12.


3 am cock-a-doodle-do!! my eyes are wide open. A short conversation with the dark, a load of laundry, catch up on my emails, and I'm ready for a nap by 4.

Daylight savings came in rambunctious as can be and since that train blew into town, I'm raring to go somewhere or do something at 4 every morning. I feel like a kid trying to get up before nap time is officially over. I stay in bed usually, and swat around random thoughts. Plan my day, plan your day, too and my neighbors' days. I rewrote the postman's' route once. I am not sure he ever really used my ideas, but if he had, it would have saved him hours every day. I get a lot done in the mornings, but by the time 8 rolls around and it is time to get going to work, I'm ready for a nap.

I haven't really given much pomp and circumstance to the value of sleep in my life. It hasn't held much safety or worth for me. My body battles my mind on that issue. Maybe when I take my winter clothes out of the attic, I will find the secret to sleeping has been packed away up there somewhere.

I should make the best use of the early morning awake time, but housecleaning just doesn't appeal to me in the dark. ( or in the bright light of day, either ); I really don't want to get to know Mr. Clean All. That. Well. I'm sure he presents a bigger and more sparkling appearance on the TV commercials than he ever could in my bathroom or kitchen.

I might start making coffee for the newspaper delivery guy, though.

Maybe Chronicles will become an early morning task.

You never can tell.
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