The Better Me Project—Day 15
One of the first precepts that I wanted to institute was to get out of bed. Not that I don’t get out of bed everyday—basically, I wanted to get up earlier. I thought that by getting up earlier, it would allow me to feel less rushed in the morning, and therefore less stressed and angry. If I allowed myself ample time in the morning, I could get things done.
In addition to my meditation, I could work out so I didn’t have to do it later on in the day. I could enjoy a leisurely breakfast with proper ratio of carbs to protein. And if things went my way, maybe I would have extra time to work on writing and blog posts and stuff like that.
Wow! You’re going to be so productive, Heather!
This was a great idea! Plus without checking Facebook every morning, I would have even more time than usual. There was just one problem.
Despite the fact that I was gung ho to get out of bed earlier every night before I went to sleep, I didn’t exactly feel that enthusiastic once my alarm started blaring at some ungodly hour with a 5 in it. On more occasions than I care to admit, I hit that snooze button. (Okay, basically every single day except one. The dog had to go out and he spent a ridiculous amount of time out in the yard, thereby rendering me fully awake by the time he came in.)
I figured I might as well stay up and attempt to get stuff done at that point. I used to have this Garfield alarm clock when I was a teenager. Whenever you hit the snooze, Garfield would say, “Nah, don’t get up. Stay in bed. Sleep longer.” Lately when ever that alarm goes off, Garfield’s wise words resonate in my head. (He is the World’s Smartest Cartoon Cat after all.)
This must be a side effect of being forty (ish)
I used to be up before the sun…years ago. “Sleeping in” was if I didn’t get out of bed before 7:00. Not only did we constantly seem to have early morning activities (I actually cried tears of joy when Pop Warner football was done with for the season), even when we didn’t, my body couldn’t seem to stay asleep past a certain time. I’d pop up like a jack in the box almost every single day, wanting to get my run in before the kids got up, or attempting to clean the kitchen before they made a mess with their constant food demands. Now the thought of not savoring every sweet second before I absolutely have to get out of bed is torturous.
Sleep is more enticing than being productive
Maybe it’s all those years of being sleep deprived have actually caught up with me. I care much less about checking off all the items on my to-do list than I did 10 years ago. In fact, I’m kind of like, “Should I even make a to-do list today? Nah. I’ll just get done whatever.” And whatever has been including sleeping later and taking naps. Ugh, I’m so ashamed. You would think this would just mean that I’m much more chill than I was in the past, just accomplishing what I can, not spreading myself too thin. You know, focusing on the important things in life. Letting my anxiety go and just going with the flow…
Nope. Just Nope
Not being productive has become anxiety inducing. I want to get things done. It’s just that I’ve let myself get further behind than ever before and it’s an overwhelming feeling. No, scratch that. It’s a chest palpitation and need to breath through a plastic bag kind of feeling. If I get out of bed early and start the day on a high note, I’m pretty sure that I will not only get more done, I’ll be less stressed throughout the day. Mainly because I didn’t start the day rushing around. I do notice that when I get up earlier and work out and all that, I have a higher level of energy throughout the rest of the day.
My mind knows I should get out of bed…I just have to convince my body
I understand all the benefits of waking up earlier. I’m a logical and rational person after all. But tell that to my sleeping body that has been ripped awake from a dream of being rubbed down with suntan oil on a beach by Channing Tatum (available again, by the way). If my choices are to roll over and have another drink with Channing or get out of bed in the freezing cold and put on work out clothes to start my day…well, what would you choose? Okay, seriously. I’ll get up earlier. Starting tomorrow. I promise.