Diary of a Morning

I’ve never been a morning person. I love the sunset, the quiet, the beauty of the stillness and the fact that no one seems to be awake, but four in the morning just seems like an ungodly time of the day that only Jesus and Mary ever even saw, and mothers who are breastfeeding or comforting their colicky one.
It is so rare that I am awake this early that it makes me as uncomfortable as a mouse and I genuinely do not know what to do with myself. I start to feel like Rain Man and shuffle around repeating lines from old movies and I wonder if I could watch the Newlywed Game with celebrities like the short “whatchyou talkin’ bout Willis” Gary Coleman and Tootee from The Facts of Life, but the tv is in there with Ronnie baby and he is a goner.
The thought occurs to me that I could be really time aware and go for a run or a walk or something. But that feels so military, so die hard, so disciplined that it almost makes me sick. There seems to be this little man in my brain that is totally resistant to health. This little man that says, ‘oh no you will feel much better and live much longer if you drink a few pots of coffee, eat a few dunkin’ doughnuts and lay on the couch for several hours reading about healthiness with your feet propped way up.”
The holy people pray at this time in the morning. I’m not feeling particularly holy, but I think I will say a prayer for my family and friends at this holy hour. Oh God above, I pray you give my family and friends the knowledge of your will and give them the power to carry that out just for today. Amen. Done.
Ok moving right along. It’s four thirty one. I’m not exactly sure what anyone does at four thirty one in the morning when it is ten degrees outside and you are not hungry, the thought of exercising gives you hives and you gave up watching anything but ‘Little House’ for lent, but I think I will just sit here and stare a while.
later
I was so bored I wrote a poem for my sheepdog Max that I am sure will be in college poetry classes one day when I am dead. It will be a multiple choice test and the answer will be c.
mornings in dawn the sun awakes
I am afraid and you are lying there in beauty
kissing me in long strokes
paw of love over me
smelling like a sun scorched land waterless
and I am bidding you a bath
but you say, ruff, I don’t think so
Four forty eight and the thought occurs to me that I am terribly uncomfortable with silence, and an empty belly. It is a void I do not know what to do with. Solitude, yes. I like solitude. It is the silence that kills me, especially when I am surrounded by people in houses all around me and there is no movement, such stillness. In the country, there is a terrible amount of noise. Coonhounds and dogs barking, crickets chirping, leaves rustling, Ron snoring, little crackles and such. It’s this suburban stillness that is getting to me. I hear the computer breathing and the heater eminating, but other than that, nothing. No life, no nothing. This house is locked shut and no life can get in. I think I need a ferret or some house plants or something. Ahh. That’s why people get ferrets and houseplants.
Five oh two and my empty belly is calling for dessert. Something to entertain, something good and sweet. Too bad all I have is pure natural unadulterated cane juice powder, a fifty gallon bucket of whole red wheat and a few organic grain fed eggs. Too much trouble to make dessert at this hour and unfortunately I stopped buying processed junk for my own sanity. But man it would cure my lonliness right now in suburban dull land.
Five fourteen. Oh my good heavens does time go by as slow as molasses this early in the morning. I’m feeling awful sleepy. I think I’ll go back to bed. Maybe I’ll try this again another day.