I’m not exactly a morning person. But I am a mid-morning person.
Because I’m self-employed I should be allowing myself to begin my workday at eleven.
I don’t because I’m afraid eleven would turn into noon and it gets dark at four-thirty now so what-the-hell.
This morning I stumbled into work at ten-thirty and promptly spent six dollars on coffee (two trips). Suddenly it’s one p.m. and I haven’t even done any computer work. Just erratic journal writing. My head could explode with energy and I’m hoping that remains true as I sit down to type, momentarily.
I’ve tried scheduling hobbies in the evening but my energy dips by five p.m. and I never make it to six-thirty Zumba class or the poetry readings on Thursdays at seven-thirty or the Poetry Slams that happen every second Saturday of the month.
There is only a window of time that I am extroverted enough for those things and that time is mid-morning/mid-afternoon. When everyone else is taking lunch breaks and naps.