Thanks, Ma

I thank my mother for this. My wife probably doesn’t, and truth is, I’m not all that thankful for this little gift. It could be anxiety, not really paranoia, just a mind that worries too much. My mom is an early riser, doesn’t help that she gets in bed by 7:30. Okay, that’s not true, but, no later than 9, I shit you not. And then she gets up by 6am, and that’s sleeping in.

Then there are her “mornings” much like the one I’m having. They come along when there’s something going on at work that causes some stress. A deadline, some extra responsibility because someone is out of the office, or some sort of change. Then she’s up by 4am, and that’s the official “got physically out of bed” time. That doesn’t count for the two hours spent staring at the clock, justifying when she should get up.

And today, I am most definitely my mother’s son. With a pretty visible project going on at work, and lots of important eyes on me, and very little time to get this done, I woke up early. Hella early. I actually left the house a little before 5am today, and I know chances are I’ll get this done by 11, but I couldn’t chance it. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to rest enough to make it beneficial to me. So I dressed in the dark, made coffee by the light of my cell phone (its not for me, just my morning ritual, I’m the coffee guy), said my good-byes and hit the triangle.

And as much as I’ll be hating life at 2pm, hoping for a nap, I still kinda like this. There’s something really peaceful about being up so early. The Ritalin kicking in, so I’m not dosing, the anxious feeling my stomach that doubts I can pull this off, and the empty highway. I’m stuck somewhere between being someone who hates morning with a passion, and someone who likes to get an early start on the day.

But one thing I know for sure, is I love my naps. I just hope I get one in today, or I probably just screwed up my entire long weekend. My internal-clock may not get right for days.