Weekend Mornings Are My Happy Place?

I’m a hermit a few hours a week.

Nearly every Saturday and Sunday morning, I wake early (by 6:30 a.m. at the latest), take my dog for a half-hour walk, Aeropress myself a cuppa coffee, and then have “me time.”  Typically, that includes burning through my backlogged personal Yahoo! and Gmail, watching YouTube vids I’ve filed into “Watch Later”, writing, listening to Podcasts, and randomly surfing the Internet.

The teens in my house sleep in. My wife sleeps in. I feel productive and healthy. And I try to suppress the feeling that this is actually some sorta mental issue that I’m not sleeping in on the weekend and look forward to two hours all by myself.

Am I the only one?

Like this morning, I was really able to start nailing down my Christmas wish list, started looking at old journals and short stories to begin assembling them into a book, and I read a few stories about my Spartans and about the Thanksgiving parades of the day (oh …my weekend hermit sessions are a paaaaarty).

Mornings are important to me. I’m thankful, on this Thanksgiving day, for peace, quiet, and tranquility on early weekend mornings.

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