My alarm sounded, as usual, at 4:25 this morning. And, as usual, I did not want to get out of bed. My husband didn't want me to have to get out of bed either. I could tell he was having an internal conflict, trying to convince himself that my sleep was more important than his own. I managed to save him from himself by putting my feet on the floor first. After all, he has already delivered my papers twice this week and that already feels like asking too much.
Why 4:25, you might wonder. I have until 7:00 a.m. to get the papers delivered, so I why wake up at such an unearthly hour? Several reasons, actually. Few runners and walkers emerge before 5:30 in the morning and I detest having to drive around them or hope I see all of them. Exercise classes at the gym start at 5:45. If I get up when my alarm sounds, my timing to make it to a class is pretty perfect. Besides, I told myself when I took this route that I had to have a set time to get up; otherwise, I would torture myself every day by repeatedly hitting the snooze button.
One hour and eight minutes. 1:08. That is how long it took me to finish my paper route this morning, starting the clock when I pulled out of the driveway and stopping it when I pulled back in. OK, so I don't literally use a stopwatch, but I do clock myself every day using the digital numbers on the dashboard. I like to be as close to one hour as possible. This morning I went to the dock, and noticing a decent breeze, decided to take bring the papers back to my garage. Then on my way back to the garage I was thinking about something other than my garage, so I was almost to the start of my route when I realized I didn't have any folded papers. I flipped a U-turn and eventually found myself in my garage, folding papers at lightning speed. Yes, I was tired.
Still, that is a pretty respectable time--all things considered.