My uncles are all morning people. My Uncle Sam told me that he gets up at five am no matter what day or season it is because that's when he used to have to rise to get on the Southern California freeways before the traffic became unbearable. My Uncle Len gets up between four and six every day, sometimes because pain wakes him, sometimes just because that's what he's used to, though he's now retired. My Uncle Ali is much the same, both of them living in Las Vegas, where people in construction get up insanely early in order to get a full workday in before the crippling Nevada heat makes productivity impossible.
I have never been one of those. I hate mornings. I would rather stay up until four am and get up at ten than get a full eight hours of sleep and get up at seven. A couple of months ago, for my own sad, mentally ill reasons, I set Tuesdays as my early days, where I would set my alarm to wake myself up early, and would leave the house with the sun low in the sky, seeing healthy, attractive people already out jogging or heading for the gym.
Well, I forgot to set my alarm last night, and for some reason . . . I still woke up early this morning, darkness out my window, but unable to go back to sleep until I checked the time. I got my phone, checked it, and realized I hadn't set an alarm last night to wake me. But my body had wakened me anyway. Weird.
Sit-ups Today: 150
Sit-ups In January: 603
So, in case I didn't completely weird you out yesterday with all the twin talk, I wanted to mention that the woman I always ask twin questions to is a few months pregnant (and even during a G.D. pandemic, strangers have asked to touch her belly), and I asked what that was like, being pregnant when her twin was not. "Guess you're even less identical now," I joked.
"Oh, we're both about the same so far," she told me.
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah, my sister got pregnant about the same time as me," she said.
My mouth wanted to drop open at that. "You're . . . you're not due at the same time are you?"
"No," she laughed. "But we're due the same week."
"Okay," I said, "you have to admit that there's something spooky about that, no?"
"That we're both pregnant at the same time? Well, maybe," she said. "Except hers was planned. Mine was an accident."
And with that, Your Honor, I rest my case.
Push-ups Today: 118
Push-ups In January: 463
I ran out of time in the day, since I was going to my cousin's house tonight, so I did my run early. And that meant I didn't have time to go to the library. But as I was doing my run--oh, and it was (again) one of the hardest runs I've done*--I thought, "I don't have to go to the library to write. I can just sit down and focus for a half hour or so like I did when the library was closed."
Unfortunately, this was yet another day when I couldn't focus much on writing, which happens a lot to me after I finish a project (though I finished that last story five days ago, how long am I going to use that as an excuse?). I managed a couple of paragraphs added to an earlier story ("Podcatcher"), and wrote up a couple of paragraphs to an author's note for a story I'm about to publish. We'll see if I do better tomorrow.
Words Today: 528
Words In January: 2985
*I can't really explain it, but at around the one mile mark, my body just stopped running, almost of its own accord, and I had to rest before going on. Then it did it again to me only a block or two down the road. It might have been something I ate, might have been over-exertion, or there might be a voodoo doll of me out there somewhere, but I was a sweaty, heavily-breathing mess when I got home (just like me at the prom, huh, kids?), despite it being January.
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