This morning I rolled over, turned off my alarm, and feel back asleep. George's alarm went off, and I still couldn't get up. I didn't want to do yoga, which I try to do every morning first thing. The most I could do was drag myself to shower and try to wake up.
In the kitchen, I started a fight with George over the brown sugar for his oatmeal. He was just in a morning daze like any normal person at 6:20 AM. His calmness annoyed me. Sad, I know, that his sleepy daze was more functional than my tense unpleasantness.
Then I realized (as I have in the past before) that you really can't afford to wake up on the wrong side of the bed and stay there when you're traveling. Whether you're just on a fast-paced vacation, or actually living in a place long, your day ends up being more of a catastrophe than when you are grumpy in your home country.
You just encounter way too many difficulties, too many small snags in your day, too many surprises, and too many forces that change your plans.
You gotta get happy. You gotta chill. I'm feeling better already.
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