Day twelve – Yawn

A day screwed up from the start.

Set alarm last night to ensure I got up early enough to read the weekend Globe and Mail in bed and have my usual Sunday bacon and eggs brunch before heading off to rehearsal. Set the alarm on the radio, rather than the heart attack-inducing buzz. Woke up feeling rested, wondering when the alarm was due to go off. Looked at clock. Apparently I’d slept through the radio portion of the alarm, which had turned itself off, and it was five minutes to noon. Half an hour to get up, wash face, brush teeth, make a cappuccino and wolf down a bowl of granola and yoghurt before I needed to head out the door.

I have to do something about this sleep thing. (Yes, yes, there is a simple answer – go to be earlier. But what if my book is really, really good?)

So a quick entry simply to say the rehearsal went reasonably well, I did my French homework when I got home and I’ve gone another day without playing stupid fucking spider solitaire.

Maybe this is what I need.