It seems as if this week the 5:00 hour has been my nemesis. Usually it greets me with a soft glow through the window and the songs of some bird confusing itself as a rooster. I can lay there for a moment and then arise to a long, hot shower that has no other use that to wash me awake and ready me for the excitement that the day surely holds.
The past two weeks have been different. The soft glow has been there, as well as the befuddled bird, but the welcomeness of this hour has all but vanished.
Perhaps I have been bedding down later or fighting of some farm animal flu without knowing but whatever the reason my bed has been a super-magnet during this hour. The past day or so I have regained some ground in this epic battle but not enough to call a victory. Unfortunately, the war between the requisite for sleep and my need for the lack of it will continue to be – and I think I will always be defeated.