Still, its 6.11 and I am still in bed, obviously glued to my computer and typing this blog post. The house is still creaky quiet - the young men are still in bed, where they would quite happily stay ensconced until 12 or 1 pm while the day idled away. My husband is downstairs rustling and bustling, as I lie here hoping that he has decided to make my day by attending to lunches and breakfast. Soon I will wander downstairs pretending as if I have just woken up, instead of lying here wishing the day away before it even begins, in the hope that he has made me a pot of coffee instead of the usual cup of instant.
As of today we have been married for 18 years and one day. So I know this won't happen. Instead he will be up here soon, having finished watching the sports news, annoyed that I am on the computer, checking that I am getting up to make lunches. But the dishes will be done, and the clothes ironed. The normal whirlwind of a day will commence. Last nights crisis - a faulty and sparking light switch - will have to be resolved, washing and cleaning duties will need to be attended to, young men will need to be fed, dressed, organised and dropped off, my daily phd guilt/procrastination/work cycle will begin, and life will go on.
But for now I am enjoying the rustling, chirping, and even the rumbling, as life goes on without me - just for a minute.