Tricky to write about this, seeing as though I have been up, eaten, had some tea and then snuck back into bed to write. And my bed is warm, soft and big, and I do struggle to get out of it. It’s my safe place, my comfort zone, where I can simply go to sleep if something is eating at me cause I can’t feel sad or hurt or angry when I’m sleeping. I might have mad dreams, but I can always say it was just a dream, not real.
But at some point, I have to get out of bed, into the shower and start my day. Hopefully with a smile on my lips and a giggle in my heart. Bed is recouping time, reflecting time and resting time. It shouldn’t be taken for granted. I went through a stage when I was working three jobs. Exhausted and empty, when I got home I fell into bed only to get up like a robot in the morning and start all over again. Now I sleep with my curtains ever so slightly open so I can see the sunrise, watch the rain, see the birds getting the morning started and feel the excitement of a new day.
Hmmm, no plans today. Think I’ll have another little nap in my big, warm, soft bed.
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