Waking up

Over the last several years, I feel that I have done a pretty good job of convincing myself and the people around me that if I'm not entirely a morning person, then at least I am no miserable to be around in the mornings.  I go to bed early so I can get enough sleep.  I wake up WELL in advance of the time where I need to be anywhere appearing civilized.  While my coffee goes everywhere with me, I don't refuse to speak a kind word until I am 1.5 cups in.

Some people like red solo cups... I just like this cup to be full of goodness

But then there are days...  Last night I didn't sleep well.  In fact, despite having gone to bed at 9:45, I didn't fall asleep until nearly one am.  That put the kibosh on me making it to Monday morning water aerobics.  Boo.  I reasoned it away saying that since I have today off, I really didn't NEED to get up at 5:30am to go work out.  I have time, after all.  I can even go to yoga tonight, to a class I have been working up to for the last few weeks, and test my abilities.  It's almost a blessing, right?  And since I don't have to work, I don't have to pretend to be nice either...  It is a grumpy morning for me, guys.  Be glad you aren't witnessing the madness.

Even stranger that my lack of ability to drag myself out of bed this morning and pretend to be happy about it, was that A, the biggest enemy of the morning hours I know, was all kinds of chipper this morning!  It is work to get him out of bed before 9:30am, and this morning he was awake by 7:30, and HAPPY about it!

People, I feel like I am in the twilight zone... what is going on here?!?!