I woke up late this morning. 7:05 am. And yes, that’s sleeping in.
Tuesday, I woke up – no, scratch that – got up out of bed at 5:15. Not because I had to. Because I was wide awake. So was Fahim, who also got out of bed that early.
Seeing as how we also thought it was a power outage day, well, I was getting all the cooking done before 8 am. But if you want to read more about that, then just scroll over to Tuesday and you’ll be fully informed and more educated even.
And that day, of course, set me up for being more tired the next couple of days.
This morning, I woke up when Fahim went to the bathroom at 4 am. But that was it.
Because Fahim has to pray before sunrise, I have the alarm set at fifteen minute intervals starting at 5:45 am and continuing to 6:30am. For the first few months or so, I woke up to every single one of them, even when the watch (yes, I use my watch for an alarm clock. It’s all I need to wake me up. Usually.) is on Fahim’s side of the bed.
Lately, though, I haven’t been waking up from the early alarms, I don’t wake up until 6:15 or 6:30.
One day last week, I didn’t wake up from any of them.
When I finally did wake up, the sun was fully up and Fahim was squatting on the floor beside the bed staring at me. And yes, that was enough to wake me up. I guess he’s got a loud aura or something.
Today was similar, only I didn’t wake up to Fahim staring at me. I just woke up at 7:05. I slept through all the alarms.
Now, you might be thinking this is bad – I’m too tired to wake up. Or what will I do when I need to wake up?
Naw. This is good.
It means – and yes, this is my interpretation, and I’m going with it – and by the way, Fahim agrees with me, even before I said anything to him – that I’m not hypersensitive to noise any more.
And it’s true.
I’m not waking to every sound the creatures in the roof make as they bang and slam around. Or to the sounds of our downstairs neighbor’s phone ringing. Or the dogs barking. Or . . .
It means that sleeping with a big, strong man to protect me is making me feel safer. Oh, but that’s right, I’m sleeping with Fahim. Huh. (Honey! I’m kidding! Okay, no, I’m not. But honey! I love you! Please put down that knife. Honey? Honey? Please, honey, I didn’t mean to disparage you like that, honest. I didn’t know you were so sensitive about . . . Aaaackaaah. . .)
