It’s an ordinary weekday morning and I am up relatively early, while Alan is still shamefully under the covers. Today is no different from others:I have opened the curtains to get his clock going, and turned the light on into his eyes. I am desperate to be normal, and resist my genes. I had a grandmother who would wander around her home till past three in the morning, and sleep in till noon. I never wanted to be like that, but I must say, Alan and I are our happiest around midnight.
This time, I won’t be yanking him out from under the covers. I am just going to give in and accept that we are on playing on different time zones. I am not going to fight it any longer.
While we both have always naturally been night owls, and I think this might be one of the keys to the strength of our relationship, things for me have changed. I still struggle harder than a kid who’s candy’s been yanked away when it’s time to get up in the morning, but for me now, I feel stronger, better, more accomplished and alive when I do actually rise on time. I am ahead of the curve, and efficient, while I used to just feel tired. Now, it’s the late hours when that tiredness seeps into my bones. While I can still stay up extraordinarily late, and often do together with Alan – it is now a general mental exhaustion I feel past 10pm that kills my general mental productivity. And these days I am a powerhouse of motivation. So up it is and full frontal on a Tuesday.
It’s December and I must get going, as I am in awe of how fast the year has spun. A good friend responded to my woes on where the year has disappeared to, that I spent 33% of it in the third world, which is true, but that should slow down time, surely? I must have soaked up some of Asia’s healthy regard to life and time while exploring right? Last night, my Indian friend commented that his native food is delicious but a rarety for him, owing to the tie it takes to prepare. Something they indulged in while most Americans were carving their turkeys. This struck me as terribly sad. Indians in India make time to make their food, yet Indians in America struggle to find the time for that “luxury”. Who’s living the life of opportunity now, huh?
Regardless of my pondering, it is a Tuesday in December and I am up early, so I must get cracking. That way there’ll be more time before 10pm to put on those carols and mull some wine. Yes, I still do that. I am a romantic, afterall.
