Alarm. Rise and shine. Wake and shake it. Hands off…rocks, on socks.
Snooze. Just an extra minute.
What am I getting up for again?
[the minute passes]
Up, awake. Stretch, stretch, stret…crack, and up.
The first part of an early rise is the easy part for an unemployed procrastinator. Simple tasks lead one from the other, stepping stones for a fuzzy head. Water > Brush teeth > Breakfast > Toilet. A natural progression where the menial holds meaning.
Coffee poured [final stepping stone]. Let it cool. Quick goodbyes to those lucky three who have a purpose for the day. Bye, see you later, have a good day.
Now what. What have I got up for? Why am I…
Laptop on. JVC portable plugged in. Spotify roulette show me what you’ve got for me. Tentative tip, sip…good, its drinkable. Spotlights - enter stage right - Grand Funk Railroad, “American Band”. Volume up, mug up, coffee and music in. Hit shuffle.
What is it I’m up for? Think. Think. Interview to prep for, mince defrosting, vegetables to be peeled and cut, all later. Next track. Why is it I’m up now?
I’ve ran out of stepping stones. There’s a good five hours of the day where, without direction, I lunge from one task to the next without really moving anywhere, progressing with anything. Jumping from one stone to the next to see if it will lead me to shore.
Guaranteed I’ll hit the shore running, once I hit it. Until then.
Mug up. Coffee in.
Hit shuffle.
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