Morning of 2-21-6

I tried something I’ve never done before. I got up at 6:30 AM, had half a glass of water (after getting dressed, as you know how scandalously I sleep), and went for a light run. I thought I’d go around the pond opposite this complex, which seemed suddenly bigger when it’s below freezing and you know you can’t run long distances. Almost thankfully, I ran into a patch of ice on the last leg, so I had to slow down a little. Not in the mood to die from running.

The motivation isn’t so much the running (oh sure, there’s alterior motives) but more having something to do first thing in the morning. There is absolutely no way I’d get up in the morning if I was to just sit on my ass. And it wouldn’t be good sitting. It would be that waiting kind of sitting.

Back here, I immediately stripped nude and peed in the shower. (And, you know, cleaned myself.) Toweled off, q-tipped my ear, donned my bathrobe, and set some hot water on. Put some clothes on, noticed my nails needed clipping, so I did that. Fetched oatmeal and orange jews. And so rather than just sitting on my ass, I can say, “Hey. You deserve to relax.” Because you can only relax after you’ve done something and anticipate doing something later. We eventually reach a critical threshold where our bodies say, “..Uh, you’re rested, you’re just not doing anything.”

In twenty-five minutes, I’ll brush my teeth. In half an hour, I’ll be out of here. I’ll knock out my spanish homework, at then go kill time before my first of three classes. At the beginning of Spanish, I’ll plot how to partition the rest of my day.