Almost a month here, and, knock on wood, the Monster continues to sleep soundly through the night in his own room. He’s only awakened me three times since we’ve moved.
The first time, the first night we were here, Bad Quiet awoke me at 3:00 a.m. Monster wasn’t anywhere in the house. Fortunately, he was too tired to go for an adventure: I found him sitting on the front step staring at our cars parked in the driveway.
The next day, we had a house alarm system installed.
As a consequence (what @bhoneydew is calling “a good thing”), I’m not waking up at 4:00 a.m. Or five a.m. If I’m lucky, I wake up at 5:30, but, damn, most days I’m sleeping until the alarm clock goes off, and on more than a few, I’ve slept until @bhoneydew gets up two or three or sometimes five snooze cycles later.
As a consequence, the morning “free time” that I’ve been relying on for, uh, way too long now, is evaporating … and sure, I’m getting more stuff done because I’m better rested, but, why do I feel like it’s lower quality stuff (and certainly not creative stuff, unless work writing counts) and I’m always running behind?
Maybe I just need to increase my coffee intake, like I’ve had to increase my allergy meds (translation: take them daily, instead of just when I feel my eyes starting to swell up). Or beat my head against the wall enough to get the poetry I’ve been plagued with lately to Go Away. I’d like the ear worm to come back, please. I’d even wouldn’t mind if it was the stereo ear worm I get sometimes.
And falling apart
Not always the same thing
But always the start
Of catching up
And climbing on
While wondering where
The track has gone.