seven minutes in heaven.

I try not to fall into the trap of the snooze bar. My alarm goes off too early and sometimes it's beyond too early even though it's the same time every day. And as I catch the NPR people talking about Burma Myanmar, again, for the sixth day in a row, I think...seven more minutes. My trusty dream machine is flirting with me, aching for me to touch it ever so gently. Come on, it says. You know you want to. Seven more beautiful minutes. You know being horizontal is so much better than vertical right now. I give in easily - why waste time on deciding whether or not to sleep more? That time could be spent sleeping! - and close my eyes. I open them four minutes later and think, three more minutes! Three more minutes of the best sleep of my life! Yet even before my time is up, I'm already awake. I glare at my alarm clock and get up, not about to be swayed again. I feel like the snooze bar has taken advantage of me, as I'm now going to be ten minutes later than usual and I feel not a minute less tired. I'm not falling for you sneaky ways again.