(Written in writing group today. The prompt was to write, in detail, about the first hour of your day. I had maybe eight minutes to write the following by hand.)
8:00 AM – Eyes open. “Ugh. I am not doing this. Can I sleep longer? Hey, I only got four hours. I think I can sleep in.” Beth gets up, sets alarm for 8:30. She enters a state of semi-drowsiness. The alarm goes off. “Ugh. Fifteen more minutes? Yeah, fifteen more minutes.” She gets up and sets the alarm for 8:45.
At 8:40 she is still lying in bed, anticipating the hellish beeping sound (“Who makes alarm clocks so annoying? Couldn’t I be coaxed to wakefulness instead of being jolted by BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! It’s no wonder I keep breaking alarms.”) She gets up, makes her sluggish way to the water closet, greeting her tabby on the way. He looks nonchalant. He looks like he slept well. He must have. He slept part of the night on Beth’s pillow. Sleeping shouldn’t feel like yoga, but some of the positions the cat forces Beth to sleep in…
Groggy and zombie-ish, Beth takes care of certain–ahem–business. Goes back to her room–again, sluggishly–puts on clothes, body spray, etc. Sits at her computer–the chair is in shreds. Thanks, Cat.–and finds an email from Ruthie in her inbox. She smiles sleepily, answers the missive, and wishes oh so much that she were back in bed.