She [Rosie] was seizing the day her way—a made bed meant you were in their world. All kids wanted to dive into bed and be lying down safely, especially until about noon.
--Anne Lamott, Imperfect Birds, 154.
At my age, sleeping
in is no longer a gift. I suppose because I recognize that one never
knows how many more mornings of coffee, cool air, and cardinals
singing cacophonous songs there are to go. So in middle age, sleeping
in seems more like a punishment. This is a big difference between us
and the mutant ninja teenagers, who still have so much of life ahead
that sleeping until noon seems like a rationale thing to do. But for
me, getting up early while the streets are silent and the sun is
rubbing its sleepy eyes, starting its daily ascent, is so much better
than rising up into a bright midday sun.
I am not opposed to
an afternoon nap now and again though.