Some wake-up calls are rougher than others for this morning bird.
Mornings that I especially dislike are characterized by utter confusion when the alarm goes off at 5. Where am I? What day is it? Why is the alarm going off? Why am I not awake?
I think what happens on these mentally-foggy days is that I’m pulled abruptly out of a dream and into my bedroom in Plano, Texas. Also frustrating: I can’t remember anything of the dream world that I just departed.
After all , if I can’t figure out where I am, I would settle for knowing where I’d been.