Sunday Mornings

I like Sunday mornings. I like the lazy, don't have to be anywhere, don't have to do anything feeling on Sunday mornings.

My sweetheart does NOT sleep in. He likes to get up and get going. However, he has learned enough about me to know that I like sleeping late. Especially since my weekday alarm clock goes off at 5:50a.m. so I can be at work by 7. It's a treasure to get to sleep until I wake up naturally -- until my body says, "Okay, that's enough." On Saturdays and Sundays, my first words are not, "I don't want to go to work today," like they are they other five days of the week. On weekends, my first words are mumbles as I smile to myself knowing I can go back to sleep.

I've had near arguments with people who get very self-righteous about getting up in the morning. Gung-Ho! Time's a-wasting! The early bird gets the worm! A sunrise is a beautiful thing! Don't waste your day in bed! Get up! Get going! Fine. I don't need a worm - the early bird can HAVE the worm. Leave me alone, I'm going back to bed.

Whether or not I sleep is another discussion altogether. It's a delicious feeling in my comfy bed: nice clean sheets & blankets to wrap up in, my bookshelf beside me filled with favorite books and covered with various crochet threads and yarns, projects in process, photographs and drawings. The window is open just behind the headboard, sometimes the birds and beasties outside are so loud it's like a jungle. I get breezes and green outdoor smells, sometimes the crisp, cool rain smell. When it's hot, my ceiling fan keeps air stirring. My bed is without question my favorite place. It's where I spend my non-working hours, where I watch TV and movies, read, cry, think, indulge my passions. I like sharing my bed, having someone to talk to and play with there. Everything I need is nearby me there.

Sunday mornings are best. My sweetheart goes to his church, and I'm free to do anything I like. Sleep til noon. Watch a movie I know he wouldn't like. Read. Search through my crochet books for my next project pattern (neverminding the in-process litter around me). Lie there and think. Think about things I want to do or things I have done - some make me smile, some bring guilt and shame and heartache. Think about books I've read or movies I've seen and how they made me feel. Think "what if" - what if Anna were still here, where would she be, what would she be doing? what if I could travel, where would I go? what if I didn't live paycheck to paycheck, what would I do?

Before I know it, my Sunday morning is gone - my alarm set for early Monday morning - only a few hours of my-time left.

Go slowly Sunday mornings, please go slowly.