The Only Flaw in this Beautiful Existence
Every night I wake up at 3:10am. It is exact, as if my body has made a pact with the night and signed it without my permission. At 3:10am I have a routine. First, I wake up and I look outside. My eyes silently plead with the sun to start rising and prove that I have made it to daybreak, but each morning it is dark and I know that it is 3:10am, again. I then contemplate getting out of bed or waking Jeff up just to hang out, but finally, I close my eyes until the sky fills with the red and orange of a New Mexico sunrise. I don't know why I have gotten into this routine and I haven't quite decided what to do with it yet. It isn't as if my soul or mind has unfinished business or worry, or that my stress keeps me up even when my eyes beg to be closed. No, those days are over. Some days it seems that I have not only started a new chapter of my life, but that I have completely changed books. The quarantine has forced me to rest, to not jump into any commitments, to