Waking up is the hardest thing when the only person keeping you accountable for waking up is yourself.
It’s one of the things that I’m learning, as I get into a workable routine writing and freelancing, running my own life entirely for the first time since, well. Ever. The bed is more inviting than the desk. It’s warmer, cozy, and some days I honestly have to ask myself if it’s really worth it to get out of the bed when I could just put off doing work for another few hours.
Spoiler alert: it’s always worth it to get out of the damn bed.
Take for example this morning. It was supposed to be a six o’clock day. Nice early morning, get breakfast and tea in me, go for a morning walk. Back home for shower, a little bit of writing, and then out to Barnes & Noble to occupy the cafe for a few hours and do work. Six o’clock ended up being eight. There was no walk, since I was brilliant and forgot to charge my phone the night before, and I like to be prepared when it comes to long, lonely walks in the woods.
That being, the day isn’t lost, merely pushed back. As I type, my phone is charging (or, will be, as a second glance has told me I have yet to plug it in) and I’ve got about three and a half hours before my afternoon trek out to do some work away from home – and, potentially new work to look forward to.
Here’s to a productive work week – and waking up on time.