It's more than just once in a while I wake early and wonder why I ever chose the job I have today. Medicine? Sure. It's just that surgery always starts early and being up and out the door by 6:30 is not uncommon. Nor fun. Nor anywhere in my realm of being before the age of 25.
Not that it matters much anymore. I don't think I could sleep much past 8 without a general anesthetic. For all the fond memories of staying in bed 'til 11, noon, or later during my school days, I seem to have lost that ability. Ev hasn't yet learned the fine art of wasting a morning in bed. Kels can still pull it off now and then when the opportunity presents itself. And Tam, well Tam can kind of do a half-hearted imitation-- 8:30 is pretty much her best effort at this point.
And then along comes the change of seasons. The sun cools down, the wind picks up, a few clouds roll in and, suddenly, nobody's moving very fast these mornings. Somehow our primitive brain parts are telling us to start thinking hibernation. I'm getting up at the same time-- it's just taking a whole lot more effort (and an additional 30 minutes to feel alert).
Now, maybe if I just had my old med school bed made from concrete blocks, a sheet of plywood, and a cheap mattress, maybe then I could sleep until noon. Lord knows the brain is willing these cool dark mornings.
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