There Was a Time…

So, it’s 01:22 and I’m fighting a strong urge to get up, take a few steps across my room and fall into bed. That urge is currently being hindered by several things: firstly, I’ve already started this post, so I can’t go to bed until I’ve reached some manner of completion here; secondly, there are several pillows and pillow-filled baskets and old chenille sweaters and protective vinyl coverlets coating my bed making it impossible for me to just “fall into” it in way that will result in my becoming comfortable enough to achieve sleep.

Why are these things all over my bed? I have cats. If you had cats, you’d know exactly what I was talking about. During the day, you see, the (you’ll notice I said “the” instead of “my”) bed belongs to the cats. At night, the bed belongs to the cats. That’s all there is to it.

[See?]

Cat baskets aside (oh, how I wish they were… then I could go to bed), I find myself thinking back to a time not too long ago when my night would have just been getting started. Used to be I would be rocking the keyboard until the later wee hours of the night (you know, the not-so-wee ones), wasting precious time on pointless internet-related activities.

Now that I’m getting old, I try not to be up any later than 2:00am, rising no later than eleven, usually somewhere closer to ten. It’s awful  because I love to sleep and I hate getting up early (anytime before ten… anytime before I feel like it, really), but it’s like I’ve lost my touch. It’s 01:45 and I’m already starting to get brain fuzz over adjectives.

I do have one small comfort in all of this, however… I know who’s behind my sudden adherence to some sort of normal sleeping schedule. Unlike so many assault victims, I know my attacker’s face, and I shall reveal it here for you tonight:

 
[I am become Keurig, destroyer of unhealthy night owlishness and taste buds…]

Every. Morning. This herald of caffeine and intermittent bathroom trips awakens me with its distinctive sucking, hissing gurgles, signaling the impending arrival of a scalding, aromatic beverage of my choosing. Like Pavlov’s dog(s), I respond to the noise of the water reservoir being drained, crawling meekly out of my warm bed to select a cup size (which is always the largest, 9oz. Always. They thought this would be enough coffee why, now…?), and feed my tormentor with my drug flavor of the day. (My “flavor of the day” has actually been Coffee People’s “Donut Shop” medium roast for the past month because I went momentarily insane and bought a 50pk. off of Amazon. Don’t get me wrong, I love the flavor, but the whole point of having a Keurig brewer is for the variety you can indulge in.)

And so, the time of the 5:00am movie marathons and 2:00pm alarms has come to an end. I even have a little morning “coffee hour”, now, during which I check my emails, feeds, Twitter activity, Facebook page, news sites, deal-a-day offerings and play all the bonus points games on SonyRewards.com. (Oh, and drink my coffee.) It’s actually kind of pathetic, but that’s all there is to it.

It is now 02:14 and I’m going to go to bed so I can get up and have my coffee.