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01 31 00
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01 31 00
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I have two methods of waking. Each has their advantages and disadvantages, although there is one method I prefer. The Slow Method From a deep sleep I surface. Drifting in and out of sleep. Remnants of dreams nag me, and in my semi-consciousness I try to string them together into something coherent. It hardly ever works. I become aware of the room becoming lighter and lighter. My bedroom window faces north, however, so no direct sunlight intrudes through the blinds. I drift back into sleep. I roll. I stretch. I snuggle beneath the covers. I twist the sheets into an impossible mess. Each pose of more comfortable than the one before, cradling me between dozes. Surface, eyes open. A quick glance at the clock. I have to squint to see it, since I am quite nearsighted. I roll back over and bury my face in the pillow again. Sometime something disturbs me. It might be the alarm, incessantly beeping every 15 minutes. Or Jaws might come knocking on my bedroom door, mewling through the crack and sharpening her claws on the bottom of the door. "Come feed me," she whines. "The sun is well up and my bowl is empty. Up, up, lazy human!" Finally I relent, throwing back the covers and climbing to my feet with a groan. The morning begins. The Quick Method In a deep sleep I hear the beeping of an alarm. I know the sound. My hand reaches out to silence the damned thing. But something in my mind stirs awake. Something knows why my alarm rings while the curtains are still dark. Something tells me I must wake. Now. I still my hand an inch above the button and look at the clock. My eyes are more blurry than usual; I blink the crust from them. The clock reads 6:00am. Why? Why so early? The appointment, the early shift, the meeting, the session... Something I must attend this morning. I must wake. I must! Another glance at the still beeping clock. The time. The time! It is early but late! Late late late! With a rush of adrenaline I throw back the covers and slam my hand down on the clock, ceasing its alarm. Up. Awake. And terribly grumpy.
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Romance Dave saw a job posting that he was considering. The pay would be about the same, and he is qualified. Plus, it's in Vancouver - he would be much closer to his family and old friends.And much farther from me. So he wanted to discuss it. I told him that it was his life and I couldn't - and shouldn't - tell him what to do with it, but that it would make things more difficult for us. He said he wouldn't apply for it. I repeated that I didn't want to supress his "need to migrate," and he replied: "I've decided not to try for the posting out there *because* of you, but I don't feel suppressed because of that - not a bit. I've weighed it in my mind and decided that there will always be other opportunities to move out of Winnipeg, but I could search all my life and never find another you." See why I love this guy? grin
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