Lately it's been really hard for me to go to work. Not that it's been hard to wake up - well, it's really always hard to do that - but it's been really hard to walk out the front door and leave the warm goodness that is my apartment in the early morning hours.
On weekday mornings, we wake in near darkness when the grass is still wet and the world is quiet, we hear showers start up one by one down the alley, we pour bowls of cereal and put on socks to gaurd against the cold floor. On weekday mornings, we rub our eyes and stretch and are keenly aware that most of the world is doing the exact same thing. On weekday mornings, we cherish the little things like five extra minutes of sleep, a warm shower and bright, early spring sunshine.
And every single morning for the past week, as I've approached my front door, I've wanted to put my bag down, jump back into my pjs and crawl on the couch with a blanket and my favorite pillow to watch morning talk shows, sip coffee and enjoy the toastiness of the blowing heater and the glow of amber lamplight.
Maybe one day - just one - I'll get to stop and soak it all in.