6:05 a.m.

Happy Vernal Equinox, my peoples!

Since Monday, every day I have woken up at exactly the same time. I don't have a clock in my bedroom, so I wake up, walk to the kitchen, and the clock on the oven says 6:05 am. (An argument could be made that I am actually waking up at 6:04 a.m., but I digress.) The internal bodyclock is an amazing, amazing thing.

I've never been much of a sleeper (see numerous sleep/insomnia-themed 55 Fiction Fridays.) One thing I'll say about law school - it taught me how to sleep. It wasn' until my second year of law school that I learned that once you woke up, you could stay in bed and, eventually, you'll fall back asleep. Yes, that's right - at the age of 28, I learned how to sleep in. (To my friends with kids, I should probably just go apologize to my mother right now - I can't imagine that she got much sleep...well, ever... after I was born.)

I'm still not a tremendously good sleeper and you'll never find me in bed past 9 a.m. unless I am (1) sick, (2) fighting off sickness, (3) am operating on less than 4 hours of sleep from the night before, or (4) hardcore procrastinating about something.

So. My daily rhythm cycles with the sun. I'm always up, but I'm much more energetic in the morning during the spring and summer. This morning, I meditated, put together a dresser, and sorted laundry - all before getting ready for work. I arrived at work feeling like I'd already had a productive day. Yesterday, I stopped by the library and picked up books on meditation, crafts, and knitting and spent the evening with visions of placemats and mittens dancing in my head.

Spring is springing - Mr. Soleil says it is, no matter what ideas The Weather has - and I think I am too.