Here’s to the predawn mornings, when I naturally wake before my alarm.
No point in going back to sleep, surrounded by his snores and early bird charm.
I could roll over and spoon or get up and start the day.
The jingle I went to bed to, in my mind it starts to play.
My Posse’s on Broadway, My Posse’s on Broadway.
Okay, okay. Now the intestines are nudging that it’s time to let lay.
So I’m up and I’m about, the air chilly like the overcast clouds.
10 minutes later, I’m contemplating dinner prep when the alarm finally rings aloud.
The to-do list impending, a snowball rolling yelling “You don’t have the privilege to quit.”
Tempted, I hit snooze and jump back in bed for 10 more minutes with my favorite armpit.
And that, my friends, is what my morning routine has been looking like these past couple of weeks.
It’s been reeeally hard to get out of bed. We skimp on the heat to save on the bills so mornings are always a little chilly. And Charles, he’s a radiator. The hot yin to my cold yang. It’s not fair to blame him for why I’ve fallen off the 6am workout wagon but, in my mind using him as an excuse feels justifiable.
Just imagine…
The alarm goes off at 5:30am and you have to choose between snuggling with your warm, cuddly care bear significant other for an extra hour vs. going outside in the dark, cold elements to workout at the gym only to head right back outside in the cold to go home?
Easy decision, right?
For Valentine’s Day, Charles said he’ll get up and work out with me this morning so cross your fingers we actually follow through on our gym date. But if not, it’s ok.
Love, rest and snuggles are always an acceptable excuse to hit snooze.
xo, Setarra
** Photos from our anniversary day two years ago. We booked a nostalgic stay at the Holiday Inn in Rosslyn – our long distance “middle ground” meet up spot from way back when I used to live in NYC and Charles lived in Virginia Beach.
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