My clock clicked to 6:00 AM, and I smiled. All was right with my world.
I was snuggled in my rattiest, comfiest sweater, a cup of coffee in my hand, Proverbs open on my lap.
Hello, Routine…I missed you.
My house is finally empty of guests. The Christmas Spirit is neatly packed away. The Christmas decorations are bundled up for their long nap until next winter.
Like my sister’s cat (that is terrified of people and skitters under the bed until the strangers are gone only to creep tentatively back to join the family), my morning routine has been gradually tiptoeing back into my life…
Believe it or not, I’m an early riser – not because I enjoy it. In fact, I love sleep, and I rather despise mornings. However, I hate being rushed.
Despite my predilection for procrastination of distasteful projects, I do not like the every day last-minute panic that results from oversleeping.
I don’t enjoy rising early, but I do thrive on calm mornings.
That is what gets me out of bed before the birds even think of singing: the knowledge that the rest of the day may go to the Crazy Place in a straight jacket, but for two hours in the morning, I am in complete control of my serenely ordered world.