People often ask me how I get so much done; the fact that I'm a night owl is responsible for a lot of my productivity. I've always enjoyed staying up late, though it goes beyond just enjoyment. I have trouble falling asleep early unless I'm just really worn out. (That's all been a bit different in the past couple of years depending on my thyroid levels, but generally speaking, that's the case). Of course, it goes without saying that I'm NOT a morning person. Luckily, we live just a few minutes away from the school, so I normally don't have to be up until 7, and then I can come back home and get ready for work after dropping the girls off, since I don't have to go in until 8:30. Living just 5 minutes from campus doesn't hurt either.
Right now, for example, things are totally quiet in the house -- the girls have been in bed since 8:30 (for Cami) and 9:15 (for Cass, who then reads until 9:45), and Chris just went to bed about 10:00 (which admittedly, is very early for him). It's when things are quiet like this that I can get a lot done. I've got a pot of tea steeping on the stove; there's a drainer full of dishes drying while more soak in the sink; towels are folded and waiting to be put away; the washer and dryer are ready to be swapped out; and I just finished making a batch of pasta salad for the band award dinner tomorrow night. It's easy to just move from item to item like this when no one is awake -- because there's nothing else that needs to be done or that really requires my attention.
I've always been this way, for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, about 6 or 7, my bedroom was one room over from our living room. I used to get up out of my bed (I shared a room with my sister at this time) and peek around the corner of my doorway into the living room. Dad, who was always sitting in his recliner watching The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, would see me standing there and would beckon me over. I'd scamper over to him, wearing my favorite Strawberry Shortcake gown on most nights (unless it was an oversized t-shirt from the family restaurant or the John Deere dealership where Mom was secretary/bookkeeper) and climb up into his lap. I'd snuggle down next to him, under his arm, and watch the rest of Johnny Carson's opening monologue. Then Dad would pack me back to my bedroom and tuck me in again before I fell asleep for the night.
As I got older and fell in love with reading, my mom would stop by my room, where I'd be lying in bed reading my latest favorite novel, and tell me to turn the light out, that it was time for bed. I'd comply and wait a few minutes till I knew she'd gone on to bed. Then I'd quietly turn my light back on and read some more. Mom would happen to get up, an hour, sometimes two hours, later and find me still reading. I got in "trouble" a lot for doing that. Finally, I think Mom just sort of gave up on telling me.
In college and while I was teaching, I usually waited until the girls were in bed before I'd start working on essays for class or grading papers and filling out lesson plans for the next day. Late night always meant more creativity, more ideas, more brain energy...
There are times when I wish I was more of a morning person -- it would make it easier to get more work done in the garden and the flower beds because I could take advantage of the morning light -- but the truth is, that's just not gonna happen.
What about you -- morning bird or night owl?
Just a reminder -- today is Page Turner Tuesday at {we are} storytellers. I don't have any new products up this week, but there's still a ton of great product to grab there today. Check it out!
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