Blending birds

One day the night owl fell in love with the early bird.  It made things awfully complicated.  One could not stand being up too late at night and the other couldn’t stand being up too early in the morning.  With their working hours it meant they only got time together on shared days off.

I was the night owl.  I loved the night.  I could be a vampire bar my dislike of blood.  I like the silky darkness of nightfall it settles comfortably over me.  I love how the stars twinkle appearing slowly and then covering the whole sky, lighting it up with their gorgeous glow.  I have always liked “twinkle, twinkle little star” and wishing upon the first one I see.

Hubby was the early bird.  He never saw an early morning he didn’t want to embrace.  Dragging me out of bed to head off for a day of travel to one of our favourite places.  He goes to bed so early he misses much of the magic of the night and I sure as hell can ignore the bright light of day!

Over time we both changed.  I have medication that has meant I HAVE to go to bed quite soon after taking it.  I sleep most of the night.  Hubby has insomnia and sleeps when he can.  If he is up early then he heads to bed later in the afternoon or early evening to try and catch any sleep.

When it comes to writing it is my brain that dictates the best time.   I get an urge to write a piece and my brain is relentless until I do.   So sometimes it is late at night and other times the urge wakes me up and I have to write pdq (pretty damn quick).

When it comes to being productive, both hubby and I work when and if we have to.  On bad days it can be sheer determination to complete anything but being productive is important to feeling I still have some use, so I cultivate it.

So now the night owl is grounded and tries to match with the early bird who is currently the only one working.  I am not sure I will ever again know my natural rhythm but I work the one that works for us and so does hubby.


After thought:

I just thought of a funny story that is about the early bird but in mouse form – I heard it at graduation and apparently it is an old one:


The early bird might be the first mouse to the trap

but its the second mouse that gets to eat





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