Friday, 6am: Briefly gain consciousness during what is technically still the night. Remember that I don’t have to get to work until 9.30, and somehow manage to reset the alarm before going back to sleep.
Friday, 8am: Alarm goes off. Pete and I very reluctantly crawl out of bed, shower, dress, breakfast mostly still with eyes half closed. Hate mornings. Want to stay in bed.
Saturday, 7.30am: Postman rings doorbell. Roll out of bed with more speed than accuracy and dash down two flights of stairs to find that he has already given up, but kindly left parcel on doorstep again. Rescue parcel, assume it is new boots won on ebay, go back to bed. Pete v. warm.
Saturday, 7.45am: Pete gets out of bed announcing that he needs to do some programming, as he has just had an idea for Senile Pig* and there’s no point trying to go back to sleep. Follow him downstairs and make a cup of tea. Open parcel and try on boots. Pleased that they fit.
Saturday, 8am: log into computer. Bright, alert, cheerful. Why don’t I feel like this on weekdays?
*The MP3 playlist generator, now with new icon designed by Meafmania.