Early Morning Solitude

I'm sound asleep in dreamland when a persistent beeping and prodding husband bring my senses into consciousness. I roll over and smack the alarm off, almost smack my husband, and then curse being awake.

6:30a.m.

I should just roll over and get another hour in....

my eyes are so heavy....

the bed is so comfy....
but the wrath I would receive from Trevor for resetting the alarm and waking him again wins out and I fall out of bed.
After about fifteen minutes of stumbling around I'm actually able to keep my eyes open.
I dress, go upstairs, and open the back door to a deliciously crisp wave of fresh morning air. I go for about a half hour run/walk. My route so far has been along an irrigation canal that runs behind my parents’ house and along the south edge of the town. There's houses on one side and field on the other. I hardly ever encounter anyone else.
It's peaceful. I breathe deeply and enjoy.
I return invigorated.
Lately I've been feeling a bit smothered. I work around people all day, come home to a husband who's mostly been alone all day and wants my company, and an adorable little girl also starving for my attention. I'm not really complaining because I like work and love my family but there comes a point when some "me" time is necessary to maintain my sanity. The only time of day that is possible is the early morning.

If only it didn’t involve the “early” part.