Dearest Rachel –
One of the great advantages of the early retirement that you permitted me to take is that I’m not beholden to the various time pressures of the workaday world. I don’t have to set an alarm; I can wake up organically, without having to subject myself to its insistent screech every morning. Ideally, this means I should also be able to obtain those eight hours of sleep that we’re recommended to get every night, and still have time to put in an hour or so at the gym (should I so choose to) before making my way to my ‘office’ just to keep my mind busy in my leisure – as well as to be there if should my folks have need of me.
But that hasn’t been the case lately, and I don’t know why. More often than not, I’ve been waking up in darkness, rolling over to check my clock (I don’t dare check my phone; if I start in on anything, that’s guaranteed to be the end of my night), and discovering it to be something like half-past four. Back in my work farce days, I tried to make a habit of reading and showering before getting dressed and out the door (especially so as to be at work and at my desk before Mohinder arrived, lest he consider me to be slacking), but that would require setting the alarm in order to be up an hour later than I’m waking up organically now. What gives?
Even as I’m pondering this, I hear the padding of feet on the other side of the bedroom door. It would seem that Daniel is up as well, although likely in the last stages of his evening; he’s probably using the washroom one last time before he heads off to bed. I don’t really feel like bumping into him, and making it that much more obvious that he’s up too late; he’s at liberty every bit as much as I am, and is just as entitled to stay up as I am to stay in bed at the moment. So I remain still as he passes by, and leaves for his bed on the family room couch.
Now, it’s true that on other days – even this week – I’ve decided to get up and get going at this point, as opposed to rolling over and attempting to return to sleep. Yesterday, for instance, I was only going to be able to be at the office for an hour or so before heading out to meet up with Lars; at the same time, I also wanted to get in a few paces where I could keep track of the calories I was burning before I covered the miles of trails without being able to tally the results of my efforts. So I got up, rather than just lying there for another hour or so and running out of ‘office’ time to at least make headway on this project or that. It still took me over an hour and a half from waking up to getting to the gym.
At least this morning, it only took me an hour (if that) to get from finally surrendering to daylight and getting to my feet, and letting those feet take me to the fitness center, so that’s something of an improvement. I may not be in a hurry, but I still only have so many waking hours to spend.
From there, there really isn’t much more to tell you, honey. I put in my time – covered five and a half miles (I keep trying to do more than I did each day last week because I won’t have a chance to work out on Saturday) on the treadmill – and headed home, to linger over both my shower and breakfast. Even with all that, Daniel was barely up by the time I headed out – but then again, he had been up until past four. I’m sure you would have understood and agreed with him; heck, you probably would have stayed up with him.
Anyway, I need to get on with my day, honey. I know there hadn’t been much to tell you about – and what there has been feels like a reiteration from yesterday, now that I think of it. It’ll get a little different by tomorrow, I’d like to hope.
Until then, though, keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 