“I got that m-mmm, I got that god damn,
I’m yo pusha man, I’m yo I’m yo pusha man
Pimp slappin’, to-taggin’ I’m just tryna fight the man…”
Groggily, I emerge from a restless slumber to the sound of a young Chance the Rapper recalling his drug life in Chicago.
Fumbling around in the darkness of 6:15 a.m., I try to feel out the switch that will bring some light and warmth to my life at this ungodly hour.
Okay, I shouldn’t say ungodly.
This was actually my second wakeup of the morning. I typically shoot for 5:30, which I think is an alright time of day. It’s typically still dark as night outside, especially in December, and the house is typically rather quiet at this time, which I like.
Given that I don’t have to leave for work until 7:30, this gives me plenty of time to wake, stretch, check my 95 social media feeds, shower, eat, and brew a pot of tea. I like a slow, relaxed morning as opposed to one where I’m rushing around to get out the door on time.
Anyway, despite having woken up at my usual time, a combination of factors encouraged me to take a post-sleep nap. First was that I was up pretty late last night. What can I say? I wasn’t tired.
Second was that I had suffered a string of pretty persistent nightmares. I don’t really recall any details of any of the dreams, but I do remember the last one heavily featured white supremacists’ infiltration of my life somehow. No thanks.
Suffice to say, this wasn’t how I wanted to start my morning, so I set a time for 30 minutes and crashed again.
Now, here I was, half an hour later, groping for my lamp. In the process, I knocked something over, but I wasn’t quite clear on what it was.
Finally I found the switch that illuminated the corner of my room designated for sleeping.
The object I’d knocked over was a full glass of water, the contents of which were now a puddle across my bedside table, which is full of books, electronics and a collection of drink coasters from bars and breweries I’ve visited in my world travels.
This gave me a start. I finally silenced my alarm, still playing “Pusha Man” on the other side of the room, and jumped into action with a dirty t-shirt from my laundry basket. I dried my 3DS as best I could, patted down my books and coasters, and sopped up the rest of the puddle with the shirt.
Of course, I wasn’t allowed to start my day without first smacking my head against my hanging bookshelf.
I guess I’m awake now, at least.
Before I leave to start my day: I feel very fresh doing work this time of day. My mind is not yet burdened with hours of thoughts, doubts and dreams, leaving me free to write nearly effortlessly.
I think I’ll try to early morning blog more often.