As long as I stay in bed in the morning, I can pretend the day has not started. And if the day has not started, then the night is not solidified/finished.. I can still be feeling like I’m 5 hours late for work, as I was in my dream, and still wondering what to tell my supervisor, though I’m awake now (and only an hour late). I can still be waiting for a new element or different perspective to the previous night. The night isn’t totally over and the new day hasn’t totally begun until I get out of bed. Chances.
I like bedtime because it’s a time to wind down and put things aside and keep only the comforting and the close things, and look forward to the next day. I like waketime because it’s time to gear up and be conscious and influence life and reality; gear up to eat raspberries and be squeaky clean and don my hood amidst the rain and navigate the world, choose my destinations and stops on colored paper and indicated by the turn signals, toss colored paperclips, berate my bluetooth headset for blinking, balance on the sidewalk curb, trade smiles, look for chocolate, win the biggest chocolate chip brownie through rock-paper-scissors.
I’m not in bed anymore. Yesterday’s chances stayed with yesterday.