Early to Rise

You can take this early to bed early to rise thing a bit too far is what I was telling myself at 4:30 AM when I was trying not to rise but finding no position on the bed comfortable enough to keep me there.  Even the dogs who are usually thrilled to see me up and about were hesitant to leave their own warm spots to follow me into the kitchen and get the morning chores underway; their principal task being to bug me about empty breakfast bowls. 

The problem as I see it, or maybe as only I see it, although, I doubt that, is that I'm still tired, but not at all sleepy.  I mean, did Benny Franklin notice this phenomena or did he just skip over it to get to the healthy, wealthy and wise part that makes his axiom a poem and thus more memorable?  Healthy, wealthy, wise and sleep deprived doesn't quite capture the idea he was trying to sell, does it?  

Ah well, no matter, what is is, and other sentiments along those lines.  I was needing to write something, anything, I could tell because my fingertips were tapping in a typing fashion and this usually means they are jonesing for a keyboard or I'm counting to ten over and over in my head which I do from either nervousness, boredom, mentally trying to block an uncomfortable line of thought, or as a clear indication of my suppressed insanity.  Don't tell anyone.  I've opted to give in to the writing urge rather than the other which has something to do with running naked in the park...just kidding, there is no park, even though I don't really have anything to write about.  This is a situation tantamount to wanting to eat and having no food.  Well, it is, at least, if tantamount means what I think it means and that is: comparable.  Why I didn't just say comparable is a mystery that brain researchers are invited to solve while I am sleeping, which, of course, I'm not at the moment so that riddle will just have to go unanswered.

A pause will now ensue while I coffee-up.

Alright, enough of this monkey minding.  A soft rain is falling outside which is the best place for it to fall if you ask me and by soft I mean it sounds like a muted drum roll on my roof.  It's a soothing sound actually, which would be nice if I was in need of soothing, but I'm not, so the sound is essentially going to waste, well, on me anyway.  My dogs seem to like it, though, as they have returned to their dog comas...which reminds me. 

Last night, Raffi, our blond Cocker, woke us with a loud keening sound he was making in his sleep.  It was a mournful sound as if he was dreaming of the death of someone he loved.  We woke him by talking to him softly and calling his name. When his eyes seemed to reluctantly open he looked dazed and disoriented and he didn't move from his spot. I turned the light off and we all went back to sleep except for me.  I'm not sure where I went but it doesn't feel now as if sleep was involved.  I asked Raffi about his dream a minute ago when I was up getting coffee, but he just shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't want to talk about it, so there's another mystery.

I have no plans for the day which is a good thing.  I'm well aware of Bobby Burns' best laid plans oft gang agley, so my theory is if you have no plans you don't have to worry about the gang agley-ing all over them.  No plans equals no worries.  I admit, though, there is one tiny planlike thought beginning to take shape in the Monkeymind. Something...something...something to do with...wait a minute...it's getting clearer.......a nap!