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Sunday

10 April 2006

Ah. So much for changing the habits of a lifetime. I had this bright plan, whereby I would work myself back and back into the morning, rising earlier and earlier, to make more time for working before the inevitable distractions of the evening cut in. I did it all last week, and had a good weekís work; and so allowed myself to discover the traditional Sunday, the day of rest.

I thought this would be okay, I thought finally I understood it. Because I never have before, Sunday has been a good working day and so not to be wasted, and besides which, if you get up at one time regularly all the week, why would you want to spend hours more in bed on a Sunday when your body-clock must be telling you to get up already? I didnít understand the whole lie-in thing at all, any more than Iíve ever understood the Sunday-lunch thing, where you eat your main meal at entirely the wrong time of day.

But lo, after a week of waking at six am, I did again wake at six, and then I remembered that I had permission not to get up, not to work. So I rolled over and slept again, and woke at half past nine, and thought Iíd cracked it. Weekdays/workdays; Sundays/sleepdays. Easy. And then I got up and idled through the morning, and went to a writersí awards ceremony in the afternoon where several friends and/or former students of mine got money, which was nice; and went off with friends after for drinking and dinner and a DVD, and so home and to bed before midnight.

And wide awake still at one, and at two, and at three, when I got up to read for a while; and this morning when the alarm woke me at six I glowered at it and explained Iíd only just got to sleep and there was just no bloody way I was getting up yet, so would it please shut up? And slept till half-seven, and got up reluctantly, and felt slow and stupid all day, and so much for any experiment - except that actually Iíve done good working all afternoon and have just completed my ration for the day regardless. Not sure there are actually any useful conclusions to be drawn from all of this. Can you make an nightingale into a lark? Case not proven, frankly.


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© Chaz Brenchley 2006
Reproduced here by permission of Chaz Brenchley, who asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.