Morning

I wake up in the dark. It isn’t the dark of night, it’s the dark of very early morning. I look at my clock radio. From where I’m lying I can see the hours but not the minutes. It’s 7 something. I woke up an hour ago – it was 6 something – and went back to sleep. I reach to the dresser and grab my cell phone. It’s an old phone, over four years old, but heck, it can do more than I need. I flip it open and punch the power button to turn it on. I hit the “online” button to connect to the Internet. I want to check the temperature. I hit the menu button, but I’m still only half awake and for a few seconds I look blankly at the menu, trying to figure out what to hit next. Oh yeah, “view bookmarks.” I select “the weather channel” and in comes the weather report. It’s 27° F.

I look at my east-facing bedroom window. The blinds are closed but there is pink light streaming past the edges of the blinds. I get up and go to the bathroom. There’s pink light streaming into that room, too. I look outside and the eastern sky is intensely red. It’s really beautiful. “Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.” That’s what they say. Will there be bad weather today? I get my camera and snap a photo, but I can’t capture that sky. The photo shows a red sky, but it doesn’t show the intensity, the vividness, the glow.

After breakfast I sit at my computer. Before I went to bed last night, I deleted yesterday’s blog post. It seemed lame so it had to go. I want to write a replacement. At 8:30 I’ve just started writing when my phone rings. (Actually, it doesn’t ring – it plays a little tune.) It’s the woman across the street. She’s complaining about the escapades of another neighbor. After 8 minutes on the phone, I tell her I’m only half awake and she gets the message and wishes me a nice day. Actually, it’s true. I am only half awake. A full stomach and a little space heater blowing hot air on my legs combine to put me halfway to dreamland.

The sky is cloudy, overcast. By 9 AM it has warmed up to 30°. There are a lot of things I could be doing, should be doing. It seems to be getting darker outside. The whir of the little space heater is soothing, and the warm air is relaxing. The thick clouds seem to say, “Stay inside. Do nothing now. There’s plenty of time later when the sun is shining.”

It wouldn’t hurt to take a little nap on the sofa, would it?