For the last two weeks my days have begun at 5 am. Because of a situation I mentioned here, I have found myself in this far-from-ideal situation that I had to very grudgingly adjust to. I now wake up a lot earlier than usual. So early, that its in fact still dark out, which is typically my reason to stay in bed. But no, I have to wake up to dark, moody, wintry beginnings of day. One would think two weeks is long enough to form a new habit, or get used to it at least. But no, it’s still difficult. And I still grudge it, complain every night and go to bed hoping I fall asleep instantly, so as to maximise sleepy time.
Today began no different. The doorbell rang at the dot of 6. I trudged down the stairs, bleary eyed, opened the door and wished K good morning. Usually I proceed to flop on the futon, for a whole hour while she potters about and does her thing. I could just go back to bed, but a strange sort of guilt takes over. How can I be asleep while she works hard to keep my home clean? So I sit, fighting residual sleep, chat with her sometimes, or give her a hand, make her some tea and make my presence felt. She doesn’t need me. She’s perfectly efficient, and barely talks at all, so it must actually be pretty annoying to have someone trying to make conversation when she’s trying to work. So, I took to sitting by the balcony door, reading. Which I’ve realised, is brilliant. Almost a whole hour of uninterrupted reading time – it’s bliss, really.
Today, I realised, I’ve watched the sun rise every day these past two weeks. It’s pitch black when I wake up, and the inky sky shivers to life, blotting as the sun breathes life across it. Bright shafts of light cut through the horizon. It’s a daily show, and I get to watch it.
Today, there was a definite draught in the air. My legs had gooseflesh all through, but I couldn’t get myself to wear longer pants, get a sheet or shut the damned balcony door. It’s a slim sliver of ‘winter’ time in these parts, and I get to actually witness the best, most dewy time of day.
Today, I finished a quarter of my book, just sitting there in peace. The dogs go batshit and fight sometimes, ruining the silence and annoying the crap out of me. But that apart, it was lovely. I was once a morning person, the sort who loved to wake up super early and get shit done, maximise the day yadayada. I don’t know what happened to that person. Despite whining about not wanting to wake up early just last night, I was strangely happy to be up in the dark today.
Today, I realised it’s an oddly nice time of day. There’s silence, but with a distant drone of things humming to life. Everything is slow, but you know it’s only building up for the day to come. There’s darkness, which makes everything feel like it’s on pause, but there sunrise is always only minutes away, slowly creeping out and changing everything irreversibly.
It’s a time I usually spend coiled up in my blanket like a pea in a pod. Oblivious to everything. Asleep. And yet, there I was, enjoying my moment in the chill, with the lights on, because it’s too dark outside, only two things keeping me awake. 6 am essentials – a hot cup of tea, and my book.
I could, perhaps, get used to this.