My eyes opened slowly. The sun was peaking through the window. I felt oddly refreshed and wide awake. I heard the children quietly moving around completing their morning chores. I turned my head towards my alarm clock. 8:30. The sheets felt cool and smelled liked Downy. I didn't feel like getting up yet. I stared at the ceiling thinking about my day. What should I do today? Lay in the hammock under the maple tree out back and read a good romance novel, or perhaps, do a little morning water aerobics in our new swimming pool. No. Both of those options sounded like too much effort. I reached over to my nightstand to grab the Harlequin romance I'd started reading the night before. As my fingers touched the spine of the book, I lost my balance and whacked the side of my head on the black pine nightstand that was positioned too close to my bed. Ouch! I was really awake now.
I heard the 4 animals I call my children racing around screaming at the top of their lungs. Adam Lambert's new song, "Entertainment," was blaring from a radio somewhere in the house. I was sweating profusely in the big, purple robe I'd forgotten to take off before I fell asleep. The sheets did not feel fresh, and did not smell like Downy. Instead, I smelled a faint scent of old sweat. It was coming from my hair. I looked at the clock. 8:42. Then I remembered. I'd come home from my morning run at 7:00, taken a shower (without washing my hair) and deliriously crawled back into bed in my purple robe. What was on my list of things to do today? Drive Nyah to dance, clean my bathroom, drive Cali to work, stop at WalMart on the way home to buy supplies for Ian's b-day party, make dinner, pick up Cali from work, drive Ian to soccer, pick up Ian from soccer, listen to Carson read, practice the guitar . . . I closed my eyes again, hoping that I'd wake up again in my dream world. Uhmmmm. I opened my eyes. "Entertainment" was being replayed for the 4th time in a row. Nope. Still in bed with my purple robe on. Time to get up and live. I don't like hammocks or swimming pools anyway.
1 comment:
Are you still practicing the guitar? How's it coming? Do you still think your teacher hates you? I bet you're a great student. If not, at least a thoroughly entertaining one!
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