One of the marvelous things about my present circumstance:  new life in a new place, no close family/friends, a sort of job- is the ability I have to lounge about for an extra hour or so in the morning.  This is significant in its counter scenario to my previous life- out of bed at dawn, dashing out the door, driving almost an hour, waking up along the way.  My days off consisted of chores, and taking care of my “boys” (my then-husband and then-stepson), which I enjoyed doing at the time.  All along, I suffered from chronic exhaustion which my then-spouse would complain of, “You’re always tired!”, as if I were guilty of some incomprehensible character flaw.

Well, in the drastic change I find myself, I get to skooch back under the covers, return to dreaming, snuggle up to a book, flip on my mind-works, doodle, chastise myself for sleeping in, or anything I feel like.  Today, I realized the joy and privilege it is for me.  I hereafter give myself license to bask in warmed-up covers, to curl up in pillows- to sleep, dream, think, write!  I leave my responsible self hanging on her peg for a bit longer, and give way to lazy reverie…

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