...it would be to every Saturday morning for the past 25 years. Saturday mornings are why life is worth living. There is that moment when your eyes flicker open for a second on Saturday morning, and you realize you have absolutely nothing to do that day. And it feels perfect. You close your eyes again, thinking about going back to sleep for the rest of the day. Heck, you might not even get out of bed until Sunday night. You're wrapped in a decadent cocoon of covers, snuggled so warmly around yourself. Everything is right in the world. There are no alarms going off, no thoughts of the shower or the dilemma of what to wear to work.
I lay awake for awhile in bed on Saturday mornings; just staring about and wondering how much effort I'm really going to put in to making something out of the day. Most of the time I think about what to eat for breakfast, and whether or not I should make coffee or go out and treat myself to a latte. The feeling of a Saturday morning is pure happiness. And the only thing that actually gets me out of bed, is an urgency to pee (although I've highly considered wetting the bed on numerous occasions just so I don't have to move), and my growling stomach. But again, sleep trumps hunger, and I would choose sleep any day over food.
This morning when my alarm went off I cursed the bloody thing twice, and pressed snooze a few more times. Monday mornings suck more than....well more than anything as far as I'm concerned. Monday's make me want to weep. If you know me, you know mornings (especially Monday mornings) are my nemesis. The only thing that would make a Monday morning worse, is if I were at home and my mom was singing me her "Time to get up in the Morning" song.
Thank God tomorrow's Tuesday.
(p.s- Mom, on rare occasions I actually do miss when you sing that song, but not on Mondays. Sorry.)
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