I wake up at 5’oclock in the morning to go to work. In theory, I could fall out of bed and into the shower at least an hour later, I’m not a morning person, and it takes a lot of coffee to get me into shower mode. I need time to commune with myself before I’m ready to face the day.
I’ve been getting up at this time for five years, and I’m used to it – to the extent that I’ll wake up really early on weekends as well. Christmas and Easter holidays see me staggering into the kitchen at the regular time, even if I go back to bed again afterwards. I don’t mind waking up early on non-work days, as it allows me to feel self-righteous about my afternoon nap.
I’ve always considered myself a night person, but I was beginning to wonder if the pattern had changed. I mean, in some peculiar, twisted way, I was even beginning to enjoy being awake hours before everyone else.
But now I’m on vacation, and I can see that my default preference is still night. This morning I saw the dawn rise, as usual, but only because I hadn’t been to sleep. As the vacation has progressed, I have watched my body clock reset itself by degrees: day by day, the waking up has been delayed by minute increments. Every day I wake up and look at the clock in awe, as I see myself creeping past the previous day’s record. Today I slept from 7 am till 2.30 pm. I’m very proud of myself.