Last night, after we got back from delivering the horse to his new digs at Pine Hollow Stables, I told Heidi that all I wanted to do was not wake up to an alarm this morning. We have a lot of shit to do today, not the least of which is trekking back down to Altoona so Anna can ride. The good thing is that this barn is really a vast improvement over anything we’ve been at over the last couple of months. It kind of is the posh barn that this city boy needs in order to keep the horse-loving 11 year-old happy. But after waking up way too early the last few days, I just didn’t want to hear the alarm go off this morning. Implicit in that was “I want to sleep in.”
So it turns out that sleeping in, like most things, is all relative. I woke up at 7:10AM today, fully rested and ready to take on the world. By most people’s definition, sleeping until 7:10AM on a Saturday is decidedly NOT sleeping in. I guess when you compare it to hauling my ass out of bed at 5AM to get to work by 7AM the last three days, it kind of is. I’ve been up for an hour or so now, and I’m still in my pajamas and feel no pressure to get in the shower. I’m still nursing my first cup of coffee – it is a big mug – and, for reasons I can’t explain, I’m listening to my “best of 2007” playlist in iTunes. All in all, this is a pretty rock-star morning. Even the prospect of doing a deep clean on the house, followed by a trip to the horse barn can’t really wreck it.
When I was in college, waking up at 7AM was the hardest thing in the world. I could barely make it to classes that met at 8:30 in the morning. Even then, I was pretty much a zombie until 9 or 9:30. A lot of this had to do with the fact that I abused my young body horribly back then – not going to be until 1 or 2AM and then expecting to be able to get up and go early in the morning. There were so many days in pharmacy school that I remember waking up and the first thing that went through my mind was “when can I take a nap?” I vowed that I would never get a job that required me to be there before 9AM because I just was not a morning person. Fast forward 20 years and I’m working a job where I am frequently showing up at 6:45 AM and by 9 AM, I’m thinking about taking a break after two solid hours of work. I guess it just proves that you should never say never (unless you’re Taylor Swift, in which case, you can say it, because they are never ever getting back together, like, ever.)
I didn’t think that I’d get to be 40 years old and think that waking up at 7 AM on a weekend morning would be anything other than brutal punishment. The good thing is I have a whole day ahead of me and the possibilities really are endless – if only the house would clean itself.