I’ve started off this day with a list of don’t-wannas: don’t wanna get up this early, don’t wanna go in to work, don’t wanna make my breakfast, don’t wanna get going quickly enough. I ended that particular phase about ten minutes ago, as I was puffing into the station having gone the fastest way I could, involving only stop signs on the way to Burlingame along North Amphlett and then Howard. What I have noticed today is a distressing time slip: I’ll get started on something only to notice that maybe half again as many minutes have gone by as I estimated. What, the second alarm already? That time? This stop?
It’s hard to fix it when you feel like you’re moving in slow motion, though perhaps that’s just an artefact of skipping out on sleep so much, so often. You get on over your bad self, now. There’s already enough beat-down negative thinking in this world to think that you’re unique in this or all alone, even. Take it easy until you understand why time is disjoint and you’ve warmed up; we all have days like that.
The last few days I’ve noticed glimmers of light in the sky at the station, usually shading to nearly-full daylight by the time I get off the train; perhaps, I think with a guilty start, perhaps I’d be getting up anyway even without the alarm but I doubt it. It’s plenty easy enough to be asleep and letting these daylit hours wash over me. Maybe those don’t-wanna blahs are telling me something more fundamental and fiercely; between the reluctance to go and the difficulties in getting here, I wonder what might be waiting for me over there?