A morning person once again

When Sue first met me she thought I was a "morning person" because I would wake up between 5:30 and 6:00, even on weekends. That's when I was freelancing, but when I got the job at the agency I started sleeping in.

Well guess what? It's a Saturday morning and I've been up since around 5:45. I woke up, thinking about everything that I have to get done, and so rather than just lay there in bed and stew about things, I got up, made a pot of coffee, and got cracking.

Dumb stuff. Checking the time the local Staples open because our printer is down and HP thinks the problem is the USB cable, and I need it for a myriad of things, including printing out a resume and samples for a meeting on Monday. There are bills to pay, which I can't get behind on because if I miss one payment the greedy banks will jack up the interest rate from nothing to loan shark levels. I swear there is a special spot in hell for bankers and lawyers. At least I hope so.

Then there are scripts to read and memorize, dry cleaning to pick up, a haircut to get, and the apartment needs picking up a bit because I'm meeting a good friend after rehearsal today at Wally's and then he's coming over for dinner afterward. All of this has to get done before a four-hour rehearsal this afternoon.

It doesn't sound like much, does it. And it's all so trivial. But they're the things that gnaw at your brain, and sometimes it's best just to address them.

But while I've been busy here, on the couch with a cup of coffee on the coffee table next to where I have my feet propped, I've seen the eastern sky go from dark to moody to bright. I've heard the squirrels that live between the floors of this house wake and start their morning ramble. I've heard Bob wake, seen him shamble out of the bedroom to see what the heck I was doing, yawn, and go back to sleep. I can hear his heavy breathing right now, which always gives me comfort. When I lived alone and would wake in the middle of the night, feeling lonely, I'd hear that goofy dog breathing as loudly and strongly as any person, and because of that I'd be able to slip back to sleep.