Rough Morning

Just like many nights recently, we went to bed late, like around midnight or later.  

Why?  No real reason to be up early now.  Watching too many episodes of "Schitt's Creek" on Netflix, which is easy to do because hard as I try to tear myself away, there is always the 'just one more' that happens.

But I am learning something.

If I don't get up in the morning by 7, jump in the shower and clean up, then be ready for Megan the Trainer's workout at 8, my day is shot.

Not really, but it isn't off to a good start.

I know, after living for 68 years, that I need routine.  I need organization.  I need a plan.

Now granted, those plans may not materialize very often, but at least I have one.

And I need that.

This morning was a prime example of what I do NOT need to do.

I set the alarm on my phone for 7 a.m. last night.  When it chimed this morning, I picked up my phone, turned it off, and rolled over for another two hours of sleep.  I didn't wake up again until 8:59 a.m.  Then I lay in the bed, looked at FB, and became depressed.  An email chimed, and it was the update on the state's current numbers of cases, tests given, and deaths.  For once the state map opened for me immediately instead of stalling like it usually does.  Then I read a FB post that even though we are taking precautions of sanitizing, not touching faces, keeping distant from others, shrinking our social circle, staying home, that this nasty virus is in the air and could affect us anyway.  What???  

So I am crying.  And Gary is upset with me for crying.  He says that I cry every day (I don't).  He says that I am always looking for the worst (that is not really true; I just want to be aware of what is happening or what could happen).  He then says the line that I just don't like at all -  "There is no reason to cry."   But for me there is.  I miss the kids. I miss the hugs of Owen and Lynnlee.  I miss Tessa looking at me with those questioning eyes when she asks about something.  I miss listening to Landon's wisdom.  I miss Cooper hopping around the room, non-stop, pitching or catching a baseball with an imaginary player, dribbling his imaginary basketball or throwing a pass of his imaginary football.  I want life to be normal again.  I don't want to think "I need to run to Hobby Lobby and pick  up some interfacing" and then stop, because I know I can't go anywhere that isn't essential (which means groceries or medicine or food).   It's only been three weeks, but I miss all of those things and more.

But then I return to the post I wrote a few days ago about the things I need to be thankful for...and I still have those.

I need to remember that God has this.  He is in control.  He will watch over us. 

And I need to remember what Grandma Greta always told me "This too shall pass."  It will.  And we will be stronger for it.

How do I avoid another morning like this one?

Set my alarm for 7 each morning.

Get up when the alarm rings.  No turning it off and rolling over for two more hours of sleep.

Have a plan for the day and stick to it.

Be normal for the day.  Eat meals at regular times.  Go to bed at a regular hour.

Exercise with Megan the Trainer five days a week.

Be productive.

Think good thoughts.

And since the clock on the mantle just chimed 11 times, and I am still sitting here in the recliner in my pajamas, and I still haven't had breakfast, I need to get up and get moving!

On to a better day!

No more rough mornings!  I am holding myself to that.