I was thinking the other day...
I used to stay up 'til midnight or one, hopped up on caffeine from Mountain Dew or a 'Cooler by the Lake.' I'd study, clean, listen to music, read, or hang with friends. Now I'm asleep by 10.
I used to despise the morning, and now I find it peaceful to have a few quiet hours before scampering off to treat my first patient of the day. In college, an alarm clock specifically engineered for individuals who are hard of hearing-- one that even shakes your bed to help jostle you to life-- was my saving grace. These days, I hear the calm chimes on my phone and am aware that my slumber is coming to an end.
"Am I turning into a morning person?" I wondered.
Then I realized that I was still laying in bed, hitting snooze on my second alarm for the 12th time. There is just something MAGICAL about laying in bed.
My scene: A breeze floats in through the open windows. I hear the birds chirping, the toddler next door playing outside, and football 2-a-days revving up across the street. I'm curled up under the sheets, using my snoring Boston terrier as a heating pad as I lay in the ever-comfortable fetal position. I hear the whistle of the kettle-- coffee will be ready soon. My husband's bare feet shuffle around downstairs. The air still smells like delicious eucalyptus from his earlier shower.
Tell me: HOW IS A GIRL TO GET UP AND LET GO OF THIS PRECIOUS MOMENT?!
It was then that I realized-- I am not a Morning Person, and I am no longer a Night Owl. I am a Sleep Person. A 9 to 9, grown-up Sleep Person. I am highly energetic and productive during those 12 awake hours, but I sure do adore my sleep. I look forward to the late nights and early mornings when a hungry baby pulls me out of bed, but until then, a Sleep Person I shall remain.
"Let her sleep... For when she wakes, she will move mountains."
