The worst part of the day for me is definitely when I have to get up. Waking up, that I can handle. But getting up? That, I hate. The covers I have on my bed are heavy, mostly because I have a comforter as well as a light blanket. I sleep with two pillows, which for some reason have different color pillowcases. Well, at least the sheets match.
I sometimes wake up before the alarm goes off. I like to keep the alarm at a low volume, with some classical music, nothing too jarring. My old roommate used to like the terrible buzzer that you find on most alarm clocks nowadays, which always used to drive me nuts. As I was saying, I sometimes wake up before the alarm, usually because of some noise outside the house—a car door slamming, an alarm going off, gunfire—well, okay, not gunfire, but man, is my neighborhood noisy! Of course, when I’m staying in a hotel, it’s usually easier to just get a wake up call from the hotel than set the alarm.
I’m not really an early riser, so I don’t jump out of bed ready to take on the world. I get up very slowly, usually one foot on the floor at a time. Every once in awhile I’ll oversleep, but not too often. I really love the weekends, when I can sleep in.
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