I woke up hung over this morning. It's ok though, 'cause I was hungover on sleep. Don't fret for me, dear Reader, I haven't yet reached the stage of drunken stupors.
Those first few moments of wakefulness were confused and disoriented (please note: not disorientated!) because on pushing back the sleep mask the sun was so bright for seven ay em, my reluctant-to-open eyes promptly squeezed up in defense. I was also confused about why I was still in bed. I think that when you wake up in the normal way, you travel gently through several states of wakefulness - some of them experienced after the eyes have opened. For some people, true wakefulness doesn't happen for hours, or until after the first cuppa coffee.
I think I jumped clear over those gentle stages and went from comatose to conscious between one breath and the next. So, when I reached for my phone/clock and peeled open an eyelid I was shocked to see it was not seven o'clock, but ten! Shocked, but I have to say also ecstatic. My inner little girl was wiggling with delight and fist pumping to a refrain of, "Yes! I slept!" It felt so good I had to share it with somebody, and at eleven o'clock on a Friday morning, you're all I've got.
I also woke up hungry - so hungry that every time I moved, my stomach would growl. It became a continuous rumble, increasing in volume when I stooped in front of the fridge, and again when I bent for a pan from the cupboard. I wonder, if I practice often enough, would I be able to work in some modulation of tone so I could perform a musical number before breakfast?
Anyway. The clock is creeping into laggard territory so I'd best get on with things. So much to do with little time to do it, you know. I hope the sun is shining where you are today.