Methinks my body may be reverting to the early bird schedule. Not such a bad thing, once I get used to popping awake at 4:30 am. The butt crack of dawn, indeed.
Yesterday I rolled out about 5:45, all prepared to hit the road by 6:15. Strategic before-bed planning is imperative, as I can stumble into my clothes and have coffee before my body even realizes it is upright. The effort was well-rewarded yesterday, though, as I drove out into a crystal clear pre-dawn, with a startlingly blue full moon reflecting on new snowfall. We didn't get much here, just enough to dust everything and clean it up. My fellow commuters from the south fared less well; I heard tales of commutes the same distance as mine that took two hours. The Metro news reported lots of accidents as well. Come spring we'll miss the moisture, but I haven't missed the ditch (or rather, I have consistently missed the ditch. You decide.)
I hadn't planned on waking so early this morning, but my brain dictated otherwise, and the beagle reinforced it with an early morning visit for some long-overdue attention. I was up and had the dishes done (that I wasn't here to use, how does that work?) and the laundry running before I roused the kids from their beds a few minutes early out of sheer spite. No-one missed the bus today, and the mood was definitely improved. May have to try that again tomorrow. I've even kept the laundry going while I did my online homework and checked the mail. Now I am having a little goof-off time before I get ready for work. The kids have an early out today, and no-one has work or practice. I foresee a pleasant evening at home. I'll let you know when the other boot drops.