I woke at about 3:20 in the morning. Yes, most people in these parts were sleeping, and I went to the bathroom. Well, first I thought about going to the bathroom – such a chore, dontcha know? – and decided that, yes, it would be the wise thing to do.

Then I get back under the covers and I AM AWAKE; the situation is obvious to me: I am up a tree without a paddle. No, I deliberately fouled-up that cliche; I think it is nighttime humor more than evidence of sleep deprivation. I could be wrong. I will see what my humor is like 12 hours from now as the afternoon wanes. I imagine whatever thoughts I have – funny or not – will run the gamut from A to ZZZZZZZZZ.

Too bad other people are in the house or I would bang things around and get some serious straightening up done. However, I know my dexterity level in the best of times and I think I would more than likely do something akin to dropping a pizza pan on the floor – WANGA WANGA WANGA – in these early morning hours.

And to think I used to have days (deadline) when I would go to bed at three after writing three articles that I had started at, oh, 10 pm. I remember sitting there spending part of that time calculating possible rates of progress and finishing up times. Oh, when that last period was typed . . . the closing of the laptop was soooo delicious. Of course, getting up then at 6:30 am was a little less so, but once over the out of bed hump, I felt cheerful. Until the next deadline. I never figured out why I did this; I have only figured out that I can’t do it anymore. That trudge to the finish was like hitting the wall in a marathon – AS IF I WOULD KNOW.

Capitals. They are supposed to indicate yelling; I think that is too limiting. I think of them as emphasis. I get snide and snarky if I want to have a tantrum in typing. But that is just an early morning rambling. Actually, it’s the truth, the rambling is in the bringing it up here.

I am craving a peanut butter foldover. I don’t have any Trader Joe’s sourdough bread so I can’t pretend I’m going native in San Diego. I guess it’s a Midwest Wheat morning, and with that, I see I have made my decision am am going to the kitchen NOW. (emphasis)