Mornings and Me

I love mornings. Morning is the part of my day before the world expects anything of me. I sit in the quiet and do whatever I want to do before the "noise" infiltrates my world.

I squeeze in what I used to love about quiet time, while I had my daycare. I have a raft of word puzzles and Suduko that I used to do while my daycare family napped or watched a movie. I enjoy this routine. I will keep it.

I longingly look back on my daycare days and have such fond memories of quiet time. Presently, I have no way to insert an hour of "quiet" into the midpoint of my work day. I miss quiet time. I miss it a lot.

I have reinstated my daily writing habit since the onset of 2019. Even if I don't have the right words to post aloud, I write whatever comes to my mind in a daily journal. Unfiltered thoughts are allowed to be voiced. As I write aloud without a care in the world about my words being read by anyone but myself, I seem to find my own answers as I let those words go.

I am forever in search of "my answers". Things I already know but have to unearth them from time to time. Writing is my therapy. I have felt much saner since I started setting my words free on a daily basis. I don't always like my voice but I fear that if I censor my thoughts too much, they may all come out in an endless rampage if ever I lose control of my censor button. I believe it is good to release the bad with the good. I'll keep this too.

I love my morning coffee. I don't even think it is the flavor of the coffee that appeals to me. Coffee signifies time I have put aside just for "me". Coffee and visiting. Coffee and friends. Coffee and sitting outside. Coffee with Mom back in the day. It isn't really the coffee. It's what goes along with it. I like to set aside time for two cups of coffee on weekdays. Three cups are reserved for weekends.

I savor the alone time. Time where I don't have to speak. I believe I am exceeding my daily word quota on a regular basis. My alone-time in the morning helps to regenerate the word requirement of the day.

All this said, I cannot believe what I am going to write next. The moment I wake up and see the sun starting to peek in my window is one of the hardest parts of my day. I don't feel ready to face the day ahead of me.

I talk myself out of this notion and remind myself of how much I will enjoy those hours I have set aside. All I have to do is put my feet on the floor and take one step in a forward direction. And I do.

I have nothing left in me at the end of my days. I come home on empty. All I want to do is climb into my pajamas, grab my Pringles and savor those moments of turning myself "off". It is a moment akin to the ceremonial "closing of the living room drapes" the moment my daycare day was over where I tell myself "I am closed for business".

My daycare days were long. But they ended earlier in the day. I am struggling with my new hours. I've been doing this for 2-1/2 years but I have yet to find my sweet spot. Thus, I believe I rely too heavily on my co-dependence on chips to get me through the night.

We cannot recreate the past. The best we can do is keep what has worked for us and let the rest go. I'm trying. But there just don't seem to be enough hours in the day. I think this is due to the fact that the sun is getting up before I'm ready for it.

Yes, I shall just blame the sun. Give me six months and I'll be complaining of too little sun. Sometimes? I think I am impossible to please. Honestly ....