Cranky.

[prog]

Good:

• I have some rather inspired Gameshelf post ideas that are just waiting for me to realize. I really will do them, once i work up the gumption for it.


• Project X's IP holder wrote me, confirming that the project maintains is month-long heartbeat frequency while in hibernation. I'm not actually worried that it may be otherwise, but it's nice to hear anyway.


• Had a great meeting with a new client yesterday, and another client has been coming by daily to dump a wheelbarrow of new tasks onto my lawn. Mmm, smells like fresh peat.

Bad:
My sleep cycle is broken again. Most days I am waking up after 10am, no matter what I do the night before. This is unacceptable during winter, when I must be especially mindful to maximize the amount of sunlight coming into my eyes. Here it is noon, I am drinking my morning coffee, and there is like four hours of sun left. When such days end with me feeling like I accomplished nothing, it's an easy out to blame my waking up late, but it's not entirely incorrect, either.

"This ends here" growled I through my morning brain-syrup. Must prioritize changing the bedroom environment, starting with installing multiple alarm clocks, and leaving at least one of the heavy curtains open. (Which means installing blinds - work, bah. Still.)

Comments

[jtroutman.livejournal.com]

Your reptile brained, half-awake self sounds remarkably like mine. I have found that the alarm application on the iPhone (setting several of them at staggered times) works "OK". I leave the phone some distance away from the bed that forces me to get up and deal with it, hitting snooze 3 or 5 times until I can get up. I have also discovered over time that a warm (at least, non-cold) room helps greatly in waking up. If the room is cold, the reptile brain really doesn't want to leave the warm nest.

Also, having a 5 year old child bounce on your chest until you are awake is a working method.

[prog.livejournal.com]

I have a cat who will stand on your back and poke your face with a claw until you get up to feed her. But only if the bedroom door's left open, and other mysterious forces, when present, dictate that it not be.