First Awakening

I’m not exactly the world’s best morning person. In fact, I hate mornings with a passion.

There’s always something or someone trying to wake you up before you’re ready, the world is full of annoying noises, there’s that bloody great big ball of fire ready to blind you as you walk out the door in the morning and, of course, it’s bloody cold and my toes don’t appreciate having to leave the blanket.

Then there are the special reasons for having to get up. Like having to take a leak. Normally this means that you can get back into bed afterwards because it’s not like the alarm went off yet or anything…oh but wait…your body woke you up five minutes before the alarm normally goes off so there’s no real point of getting back in the bed and cuddling the pillow for a few more minutes.

I have mornings like that.

I was all ready to sleep late and sleep off the last effects of my enjoyable night when all of a sudden the urge to pee overpowered me. I lay there for a little longer hoping I was mistaken and the feeling might go away. Oh no, the aching became more pronounced – as it does once it’s been noticed you know. And that was how I left the bed. Dream unfinished and a pillow cooling without the protective blanket of my hair. Because I couldn’t go back. No. Not after walking all the way to the bathroom and then walking back in to the room only to stub my toe on the edge of the bed and accidentally moving the curtain until a stream of amber deathshine could burn itself into my retinas.

And so I am, awake.

I do not like it.

I may go back later and have a final awakening much later this afternoon.

Related posts:

1. The week the cars revolted
2. Oh bugger
3. One of those days
4. Help the Aged…find a cliff
5. Calm before the Storm