8AM

Sitting here on the deck at almost 8 in the AM, I am struck by how beautiful everything is. I am not usually up at 7:30, unless by force. I’m not talking an alarm clock, I’m talking multiple clocks, and or the threat of bodily harm. Since I was little, I hated to get up in the morning. It was a nightmare. I was nasty and angry and sullen at this hour. Being a night owl has its perks, but waking in the morning isn’t one of them. My dad is quite the opposite. He wakes up as the sun stirs the first bits of light on the horizon. Hell it’s still dark out when he gets up. I never understood that, or how we could be so different. My mom gets up fairly early as well. So, how then did I end up with the nighttime wakefulness?

Needless to say, I have always struggled with waking up, and functioning in the morning. When seroquel became the main med to control my sleep, it got exponentially worse. It will put me to sleep and keep me asleep for 10-12 hours, no problem. Sometimes I wake up in exactly the same position I went to sleep in. It is unreal just how strong that medication is. Needless to say, the coupling of my sleep habit and the medication made it very difficult to be productive. I would awake feeling guilty for having sleep well into the morning. Everyone thinks living on a farm means being up with the roosters. Believe me when I tell you these roosters get up early! I however, was not up with the roosters ever. There were nights I was up with sick animals that I would be going to bed when the roosters got up, but not normally the other way around.

So, I guess I am quite pleased with two mornings of awakening with the life around the farm. The birds, and the animals all stirring. Rather than awakening with guilt, I am awake with wonder. Seeing the promise of the day and the beauty of the early morning.

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