I rise with the sun.
It was 6:43am when my eyes fluttered then creased open this morning. My bones always hold me motionless for a few moments. Only me neck moved to the right. My southern bedroom window showed me cotton candy pink clouds. Some purple, some dusty blue, all indicating the sun would soon be fully above the horizon.
I haven’t used an alarm clock in three years, save for the occasional early flight or a failsafe for hangover mornings.
I fall asleep quickly and sleep deeply. My family and I have a running joke of sorts about that. My dad falls asleep quickly but is a light sleeper. My mom has trouble falling asleep but sleeps incredibly deep once she does. My brother, well, got the short end of both sticks; trouble falling asleep and staying asleep. I can’t remember the last time I “had trouble sleeping.” That makes me feel pretty damn lucky, considering some 45% of Americans don’t sleep well.
My circadian rhythm is one of my most coveted internal functions. So fuck the alarm clock.
My time in Costa Rica had me waking up at 5:45am. The sun rose early and set early, so I rose and set early (no matter how often I protested). The sun would wash over my waking body at the same time every morning. Over time, it became refreshing. Like the warmth of a hot car in summer after hours of shopping mall air conditioning. Fresh, hot vitamin D.
I’ll wake up early. But waking up before the sun? Nope. Not this girl.
There always feels like there’s a special brand of magic in the air before 7am. The rest of the town is still asleep. Groggy at best. My body has a familiar routine. I am on autopilot while my brain is purging the last of the melatonin: go pee, wash hands, clean up the remaining munchie mess from the night before, open blinds, turn off outdoor lights, turn on indoor lights, put water in the kettle.
It is about that time I wish, for about the millionth time, that I didn’t have a caffeine addiction. I wish that rich smell of french-pressed coffee wasn’t so enticing. I wish my morning ritual was not so perfectly completed with black bitterness.
(Or maybe I don't actually wish any of those things.)
A sip of piping hot coffee. A slight facial wince. A vitamin D pill. I’m on my way.