178 / 365 – Early and late

FINN TILLARY

I woke up early, before the alarm went off. I have one of those old kind, with the hands, and the hands glow in the dark. I don’t know what woke me up but I was lying there for awhile, squeezing that salty tired sleep out of my eyes. The clock said twenty minutes to five. Sometimes I’ll see that and think, “My god, only twenty minutes. I need SLEEP.” But today I guess I was rested. I just lay there, feeling the sheets on my shoulder, the perfect sag on the mattress at my hip. It’s a great bed, a perfect bed. I’ve slept on so many bad beds the last few years — in college, traveling around Europe in hostels. Hard, board-like beds and ones where the springs are so old and tired they sag halfway to the floor, it seems like.

I hadn’t been thinking about it, because of course I set the alarm probably a little too late and then I get up even later because I’ve hit the snooze button. So by the time I finally climb out of bed, I’m hurrying — get a shower (why don’t I take showers the night before?), find some clothes to throw on (why don’t I put those out the night before, too?), pedaling hard along the county roads into town, knowing I’m going to be late, hoping she is still nice and doesn’t say anything about it, again.

And I guess I haven’t noticed how dark it is now. The evening light still hangs around, the days still seem long. They’ve been cutting shorter at the beginning of the day. The birds are still quiet. No light in the sky to the east. I had to turn my light on. I’ve probably been doing that for two weeks and not thinking about it. Summer is over. Well, not over, but coming. The air even felt cool on my arms and face. I probably haven’t noticed that either. It’s like I’ve been asleep and then I woke up with a little time to think about it and realized I missed everything.

 

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