By RaeJean Spencer Hasenoehrl
At 6:15 a.m., I can be found in a state of consciousness
that lies somewhere between an awakened-from-hibernation Nandi bear and an
uncaffeinated King Kong. In other words, I don’t do mornings. So between 5 a.m.
and 6:30 a.m., when my bladder is demanding attention and I’m grimacing over
the still-darkened view from my window, I delve into a sleep/no sleep state of
grumbliness and freakish dreams.
This morning was no exception. I try to convince myself to
crawl from bed at five, but end up in a blitzkrieg of dreams that I shan’t
describe for fear of them turning the tide of the universe.
The phone text came at 6:15 a.m. Seriously??? A text this
early in the morning surely signals the delivery of bad news.
Car accident? Hospital? Zombie apocalypse?
I avoid the buzzing of my phone once. Twice. The third time
is the pesky charm.
I pull myself from bed, sleep stumble down the hallway, and
retrieve the phone from the cold granite countertop in our kitchen.
Who shall the texter be? Hmmmm. Laura, a friend from work.
She must be an early riser who enjoys the sing song of birds and coffee at
sunrise.
Bluk.
Text open. Reading. Reading. Reading.
“I saw a series on Feeln, a spin-off of Hallmark Channel. If
you have Roku? TV series ‘Booky Makes Her Mark.’ About a gal who becomes a
writer during the depression.”
Laura, I love you!!!!
This sweet friend knows I’m a writer, knows how much time
and effort I’m putting into my career, knows I can always use a bit of
inspiration.
Wow – maybe 6:15 in the morning isn’t so bad after all.
