It's spring break for my kids this week, but I was still up before the birds this morning. Lest you think I'm nuts, or superwoman or something, I must confess. . . every ounce of my being begged to stay in dreamland, snuggled in my warm bed. However, getting up before the crack of dawn did give me plenty of time to plan my day, and my week, and it also gave me time to relax and to quietly enjoy copious amounts of strong coffee before any other living being even thought about dragging out of bed. By my third cup of the black stuff, I even had time to ponder deep philosophical issues like, why is it called "climate change" now instead of global warming? And if the world pronounces Barack's last name, "O-bam-a," why don't we pronounce "A-la-bam-a" the same way? I'm just sayin.' And. . . where do all of the socks go?! My laundry basket has 17 different socks and not one matching pair--how is this even possible?
I also pondered the age-old truism about how the early bird always gets the worm. Now, just why is that? I'm quite sure that whoever came up with that piece of advice never had teenagers on spring break, or a nocturnal dog who dropped out of college but still keeps college-kid hours. And for that matter, if being the early-bird is so great and allows for greater opportunity, one might also look at it from the worm's perspective: all that the worm ever got out of getting up early was . . . eaten.
I need a nap.
(P.S. The painting above is one of my watercolors I did several years ago.)