Fuck you seven o'clock, you don't know me.
Fuck you eight o'clock, you're not the boss of me.
Fuck you nine o'clock, you don't own me.
Fuck you ten o'clock, you don't want a piece of this, belIEVE me.
I finally rolled out of bed at 10:30, but I could have slept much longer than that. Today, however, was the opposite. I went to bed early last night (telling myself that I had a lot to do today), and found myself staring 4:46 AM in the face several hours later.
Fuck you 4:46, you don't - Oh yes sir, my apologies, apparently you DO know me.
I drifted off a bit later, only to find myself up at 5:43.
Dammit 5:43, haven't I told you to leave me aLONE!!??!?!?
And then...
Yessir Mr. 6:30, I am unworthy.
7:12 found me irrevocably awake and trying to make sense of a dream that involved frozen creeks, 4-wheelers, cops, and a 1-month jail sentence. The lesson? Don't bother going to bed early since it just means you're going to wake up early. Early to bed and early to rise and all that.
Actually, the real lesson is that I haven't been managing my stresses well. Lately I find myself innundated with time restrictions: I have to be certain places at certain times or will face certain death (or at least sudden consequences). It's all very unnerving, especially when I have more to do at work than one man can possibly do (even one as awesome as I am) and a full private life to boot. I went to bed early last night because I had a lot to do today (I have to be somewhere as early as 10 AM, which isn't all that early but is on a Saturday, especially admist a snow storm), and that ended up backfiring in more ways than one.
So fuck you clock. Fuck you all times of the day.
You know what? I'll get there when I get there...