I have a really flexible sense of time today. I think it has something to do with the fact that I forgot to set the alarm last night, something I never do. I woke up just in time to take a shower and make coffee.
Then I sat at my desk and stubbornly wrote a few lines because I have this Thing. Since last August, more than a year now, I've written every single day, except when I'm sick or out of town. Every single day. First thing. (Okay, usually first thing. Every once in a while I check email first and screw around on the internet, and I am here to tell you that those are the days that the writing gets bogged down in a sticky soul-sucking mud.)
So today I wrote a few lines. Just a couple, so that I can say I wrote. Nulla die sine linea, says the quote on my desk. Never a day without lines.
And then I looked at email, and then I looked at the clock, and I thought, oh, crap, I actually still have to go to work this morning. So I meandered to the kitchen and packed up some coffee in my thermos, and then started thinking about pulling back my hair, and then I went back to my desk and I started another email and THIS IS NOT LIKE ME, FRIENDS.
I'm one of those every-minute-accounted-for people. Once my alarm clock rings, every second of the rest of the day is pretty much spoken for. I even have my unplanned down-time prioritized, should it occur.
Just sitting at my desk, staring into space, not noticing that I'm thinking about emailing Cari and that I'm running late for work? Doesn't happen.
It felt decadent, and I think it's a direct result of that alarm clock not going off on time, and I'm in favor of it. Not enough not to set my alarm tomorrow, but it's an interesting feeling. It's kind of like I switched my caffeinated coffee for decaf or something. (Again, not enough to try THAT again tomorrow. I'm not crazy.) But I feel relaxed. Maybe I just needed that exta sleep.