I’m a night owl, always have been. It’s an inherited thing that I got from my Mom that she passed on to my brother and I. It’s as if the peace and quiet of those late hours is our time, no phone calls, no unexpected visitors, family asleep. Creative time, I call it.
That rationale may have worked years ago but has not applied for years. Living alone, my day is mine and I can do what I want, when I want. And I still live with wake time that is skewed from what others call normal.
I had a plumbing problem this morning and called the manager’s office to report it. The first thing she said was “what are you doing up?”. My habits are well known. Out of consideration for the maintenance man’s busy schedule I wasn’t going to leave this job to late in the day.
I can get up when I need to, if it’s important.
The sun was shining when I called the office, but now it’s just another dull winter day. That was my reward for getting up early.
That and the fact I can now go to the 🚽 bathroom. Another plus to my day.
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