The first things I notice, before I even open my eyes, are the birds. Hundreds of birds, chirping, tweeting, singing songs to one another with joyous abandon.
Can’t someone make them shut up?
A cool breeze wafts over me from the open window about the headboard. I glance at the LED lights of my bedside clock.
I concentrate on the soothing whir of the window fan, propped across the room in the other window, and this helps me to block out the obnoxious birds who are engaged in a never-ending concert just outside my open window. Soon I’m drifting off to sleep again…
Until I’m reawakened by the screech of a large piece of equipment — power saw? Weed whacker? WHAT IS THAT HORRIBLE NOISE? Who in the world is running the world’s loudest piece of machinery at, what, what is it?
7:26 in the morning!
Are you kidding me?
I throw a pillow over my head, and count backwards from 100. Before I know it, I’m asleep again, sort of. But before long the tempting scent of brewing coffee tickles my nose. I throw one arm out and it lands on empty space. Brian is up and getting ready for his day. The clock reads 8:05. I stretch out and then roll over onto his side.
Coffee can wait. I’m going to go back to sleep.
The dog has other ideas. She snorts and snuffles, and paces around the room, returning regularly to shove her wet nose in my face. Finally I get up, let her out, wait for her to “finish”, let her back in and then turn her loose on the rest of the house. I crawl back into bed.
I can still do this, I think to myself. I’m going to sleep in. It’s summer. I don’t have a job with a clock to punch, and I was up way too late watching the latest Doctor Who on Netflix. I’m tired, and I want, more than anything else in the whole of creation, to sleep.
And I would have gotten away with it, too, if my bladder hadn’t decided to remind me that I really, really, REALLY have a pressing reason to get out of bed.
I prop the door open and peek out of my room. If I can make to the bathroom and back without being seen, this could still happen.
I step out into the rest of the house, avoiding the creaky parts of the floor.
The dog barks. My daughter runs up and starts chattering. And the seductive smell of coffee pulls on my olfactory senses.
No going back now — I’m up. I’m definitely up.