sleeping in

For the first time in a very long time, I didn’t want to get out of bed.

Most often I find my eyes open and know I’ve overslept. I’m out of bed and into the shower before I have time to register the fact I am awake.

But not this morning. This morning, I didn’t want to move. I was warm and the rest of the house was cold. I stretched, taking time, taking all the time in the world. I found myself on my back, eyes closed, and it just felt so good…no, can’t stay here all day.

I slid out of bed and wandered into my study, nudging the mouse to kill the screensaver. I glanced at the corner of my screen. Nothing that needed my attention. Sleep clung to me like a familiar lover, beckoning me back. I tilted into my larger leather chair.

My eyes were closed just for a few minutes, but several more managed their way past. When I glanced at the old clock in the wall above my bookcase, I realized I was no longer late. I was really, really, late.

The shower didn’t help; the hot water reminded me of the warmth of my bed and I found myself leaning my forehead against the cool tile – resting while the scalding water burned its way through me. I finally managed to drag myself out of the shower, throwing on black jeans and button-up shirt, and then I was out to my car.