Bite the worm.

Most probably undeniable to me is the fact that waking early is a wondrous thing. Not the waking part of course, that 5 minutes of alarm-hating, bone-aching, shivering cold and questioning of whether we can just pin the other side of our blankets to our undies in replacement of clothes, is a shared nightmare. Yet once you're up, the air carries a light, damp crispness, a foreign freshness that can't be found within the day, it's fog pressed on your windows, ice at your fingertips. The counting of how many hours you have left in the day, which is many. Just imagine the myriad of possibilities of what you can do today! The anticipation in that thought embellishes me with the invincibility of a child. Manage your time, they say. If we imitated the sun in the morning, we perhaps wouldn't be faced with our current troubles (though undoubtedly, we'd be inventing new things to occupy ourselves with). Up you get, go go go! Or not. Lounge around with a cup of hot tea, a favourite read and the joy of watching your own breath appear in puffs at 7am. There's just no way you'll have a bad day after this.