The Gift of a Snooze Button

Waking up late in the morning is my gift, and is my curse - just like Peter Parker getting bit by that (spoiler alert!) radioactive spider. When I sleep in it just feels so good. "A full night's rest," I think, even if I'm nearing ten hours rather than the prescribed seven or eight. Nice warm covers and a comfy pillow, let alone my wife beside me, makes getting out of bed hard, and staying it in such a pleasure. There's a chance that is reason I set two alarms and snooze for over a half hour. 

That feel good feeling only lasts until I see what time it is though. On work days, and even the weekends, sleeping in late and past my alarm is a recipe for disaster. If I do not get to work early, it means I can't leave early, which means my evening is shorter and likely means I'll stay up later making it harder to wake up the next day! The whole day is slipping away. A few years ago I would get to work between 0600 and 0630 each morning. A full day got me out of there before 1500, and a "long day" had me home by 1800 (with gobs of work done in between). Melvin the Foxhound takes a good share of the blame for this lateness, but recently I need to tell him "it's not you, it's me."

The last two mornings I woke up late and was just finishing getting ready around 0800 while Hugh was waking up. I was the first to see him that day and we got to hang out just a few minutes before I went to work. Had a little milk from the sippy cup (him, not me). Waved at the curtains. Chattered at mom (that was both of us). When I put him down to play with his toys he crawled back over to be picked up again, and when I finally handed him over to Jess, he started to cry. I almost quit my job on the spot! (Or at least took him with me : ) Can't beat a nice good-bye in the morning - perhaps sleeping in has its perks after all.