More so than any other aspect of the weekend, I relish to opportunity to sleep late. Mind you, I also enjoy not having to go to work, and having free time to do the things I enjoy doing, but what I really like is not being bound by the alarm clock in the morning.
Every now and then, though, something comes up that means I have to wake up early on a Saturday, and when it does I often go through the same cycle. First, when the alarm goes off, I indulge in a moment’s quiet weeping, lamenting the passing of the night and the need to leave my warm bed. Then, stumbling forth from the house, I reflect on how quiet the world feels, and allow myself to enjoy the experience of watching the sunrise while driving on traffic-free roads. And finally, as we hit mid-morning and the bulk of people are out and about, erasing the magical feeling of being alone in the city, I mourn a lost opportunity to catch up on sleep and be generally lazy.
I realize that it would be easier to wake up during the week if I maintained a consistent sleep pattern — but I do so enjoy the chance to lay in bed on a Saturday morning and let a fleeting sense of the carefree drift over me. Monday comes all to quickly, and with it the pressures and deadlines that govern the other five days of my week.