June 06th, 2019

I woke up later than usual today.  Not that it really matters.  I mean in the grander scheme of things, it's not as if I have to punch a time clock at a particular time every day.  But we are creatures of habit and most mornings find us stirring our sleepy selves by 6:30 at the latest.  And by 7, Tim is almost always at his desk, giant cup of coffee in his hand, computers up and humming and brain focused on the job.

For me it's more about what day of the week it is.  On Pilates Class Days, which is twice a week, I'm out the door at 7:45, mat under my arm, heading to class.  If I'm teaching, there are things I want to get done before I leave for the library so I hit the ground running even earlier.  On Museum Day, while there are things I want to accomplish before my 12:20 departure time,  the urgency isn't the same.  Oh I still get up and get moving but it doesn't really matter if the laundry gets started at 7 or 7:30.  It really doesn't matter.

And on Thursdays, my laziest of days, it doens't matter at all.  I have no obligations on Thursdays.  It's the perfect day to make appointments of any sort.  I tend to grocery shop on this day and when Joy is in town we often hike on Thursdays.  It's a great day for errands and for projects be they yard, house or writing.

Today however, I almost broke a record.  When I finally cracked open my sleepy eyes it was ten of 8.  Slacker!  By the time I was showered and dressed, my hair dried, newspaper brought in, bed made and dishwasher emptied it was nearly 9.  I felt as if half my day had already gone by.

Here's the thing.  I'm a morning person.  Always have been. That's when my energy level is the highest.  I wake up ready to roll.  It doesn't matter how much (Or how little) sleep I got the night before, when I open my eyes in the morning, I'm completely totally entirely awake.  I honestly don't know if this is a case of nature or nuture.

My mother was a morning person is a big sort of way.  In fact, I would say that she was an Extreme Morning Person. And she honestly didn't understand how anyone could be anything else. Therefore, when she woke up, we woke up.   And woe be unto us if we did not.  If we slept past whatever time she deemed "time to get up" we were regaled with an operatic version of "Oh What A Beautiful Morning" as she sicced the dog on us so as to be licked into wakefulness as she pulled the covers off.  OR the alternate version which was to vacuum under my bed.  Nothing like waking up at 6 am after a night of studying until 5:30 am to the sound of a vacuum and the bumpbumpbumping of the vacuum into the bedframe.  Delightful.  I probably learned to wake early out of self-preservation.  And some things that you learn early in your life, stick with you.  Or perhaps, I really am just a morning person, like my mom.

But I have come to a point in my life where sleeping late is no longer a criminal offense.  It is now a goal. I've written far too many times about how I am not a good sleeper so I won't expound upon that.  Suffice it to say that if I cannot get my sleep at the beginning of the night, like normal people, then I will not punish myself for finding those lovely ZZZ's at the end of it.  It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it is wonderful.

So here I am, a little later than usual, just now writting today's blog and the back of my mind is contemplating what other things I will do today.  Still need to curate the photo site, read the newspaper and sweep the floors.  I need to go to the post office, the grocery store and maybe stop by the library.  I was thinking that maybe today I will clean the fans.

And here is the question I have about that.  How is it that dust can stick to a fan blade?  Our fans (and there are ceiling fans in every room) are on all of the time.  I mean 24/7.  It helps to keep the house cool in the summer and warm in the winter (all two weeks of it). So they are in constant motion.  Dust is light. I mean it is so lightweight that if it is touching me I cannot even feel it.  You can blow on dust and move it.  So how is it that dust can, first of all, manage to land on a moving fan blade (some tricky physics going on there!) and then, second of all, STICK! Does dust have teeny tiny suction cups on the bottoms of it's itty bitty feet?  Or is it more of a glue?

Regardless, at some point today, my step stool and I, armed with dust clothes amighty, will circle the house, stop in each room and one by one turn off each fan, clean it and turn it back on again.  And, as always, I will be shocked (and sneezy) at how much dust has accumulated!

Anyway.  Have a Great Thursday!!  Hugs all 'round.