My wife loves to wake up early. Even on the weekends. And while there is something to be said for getting your day started early and accomplishing things before the day gets away from you- I have never been this sort of person. Before she and I moved in together, I had no problem sleeping very late on the weekends- a product of usually going to bed very late. Well there's another thing- she loves going to bed early as well.
Well, she's rubbed off on me a little. While I still usually go to bed much later than she does during the week, on the weekends I find myself in bed much earlier than before, and therefore up and awake much earlier the next day. Yesterday is a perfect example. Having gone to bed early on Friday after watching the ballgame, we woke up at 8am on Saturday- in time to eat breakfast and get ready to be on the subway by 9am-ish to get to the gym for a 10am yoga class. After which I was pressed with the task of making a return to a store.
Now, a yoga class at 10am on a Saturday would never even been in my vocabulary before the Mrs. But having to wake up at eight to get on the train early because of weekend construction delays, and then after class to run an errand? Unheard of. And yet I accomplished all that yesterday and headed back uptown and was home just after noon. For some- no big deal, even normal. For me it was a coup. And it's all thanks to the wifey.
Today we slept in til 9am. Glorious. I'm still not a morning person, but I am coming to appreciate the early rise (My wife, bless her, knows when it's too early to impart on me any sort of important information). And I am not, for the most part, missing the days of sleeping half the day away. With a gentle push, I am no longer mourning the time lost in bed.
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