03 November, 2010

It's that time of the morning .....

 (Picture Courtesy : clipartof.com via Google)

It's that time of the morning.

That time of the morning when the rays of the sun are yet to break through the thick blanket of fluffy white clouds in the sky.

That time of the morning when even the birds seem reluctant to break out of their slumber, fluff their wings and chirp away, heralding a rather energetic beginning of a new day.

That time of the morning when stupor seems supreme, the dreams seem never ending and that wonderful state of being in a daze and trance seem unrivaled, absolutely beyond compare .

That time of the morning when there seem to be a lot of unseen shackles which prevent one from flinging back the covers and springing out of bed.

That time of the morning when one longs to snuggle under the cosy warmth of the quilt for "just another two minutes".

That time of the morning when one feels terribly optimistic in longing for “those two minutes” to stretch out into a time span of around two hours.

That time of the morning when one feels the need to ask exactly who in their right senses invented that blessed contraption called the alarm clock.

That time of the morning when sleep unfurls itself and threatens to take over every time one has enough will power to drag ones eyelids open.

That time of the morning when sleep coats and drapes itself on one with a rather feline, catlike grace, leaving one feeling totally languorous and indolent, lazy and lethargic. A lethargy that has an elegant grace to it unlike other times when laziness seems clumsy and ungainly.

That time of the morning when one envies animals who have a program called hibernation programmed into their genes by Mother Nature.

That time of the morning when the sun rays have just about begun to play peek a boo with the fluffy white clouds in the sky.

That time of the morning when the sun rays paint the whole horizon in that beautiful shade of orange pink which an artist finds virtually impossible to duplicate on a canvass.

That time of the morning when, in apparent desperation, two alarm clocks start going off intermittently, knowing fully well that they have an uphill task ahead of them.

That time of the morning when the resident terrapin with an attitude seems more irritated by the alarm clock than oneself.

That time of the morning when one drags oneself out of bed and is confronted with the sight of the rest of the household (pets included) comfortably and cozily tucked under their respective quilts, snoring away into oblivion with what, right then, sounds very much like contended sighs.

That time of the morning when one is still in the clutches of sleep as one trudges over to brush ones teeth and finds that one has put handcream on the toothbrush instead of the predictable toothpaste.

'Twas indeed that kind of a morning for Yours Truly today. ‘Tis indeed that kind of a morning for Yours Truly all throughout winter.

I simply don’t feel like waking up so early in the morning during winter.

That’s all I was trying to say, actually.

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