Another Town, Another Morning

It's 10:00 AM. I am up early, dressed, writing my blog well before my normal time of nearly 11:30. I actually woke up at 8:00 AM this morning. Katherine asked if I was going to get up, to which I replied "Hell no." I closed my eyes and managed to slog off until 9:00 AM. I suspect this early start is in part due to the time change yesterday; we are now on Alaska time. I know for certain that going to bed at around 9:30 PM last night certainly has something to do with it.

The math for me is relatively simple. Take my bed time and add 12 hours. That is when I will be ready to get up. At home I usually go to bed at around 10:00 or 11:00 PM, except on my nights out, in which case all bets are off. Here on the road, Katherine likes to stay up, usually until after I go to sleep. She does not sleep well in strange places, and there is no place stranger than here in the north in summer, where the sun shines as brightly at midnight as is does at noon.

Regardless of when I awaken, it still takes me quite some time to get my body going. My eyes open, my brain is active, telling my body to get started. My body laughs back in derision, saying "Hell no" in return. It usually takes about a half an hour between brain awake and body awake. On the road, a nice thing happens in that time. Katherine gets coffee and prepares a light breakfast from our food kit. When my body finally moves, there is food and drink at hand. She does this at home too, but here it is all the nicer.

While I am struggling with waking, Katherine is busy packing, having been up for an hour or so before me. She stays up later, sleeps less, and gets up earlier. She is normal; I am not. She helps me get into and out of the bathroom, often a must in places without safety bars or accessible toilets. While I dress, she gets ready to load the truck. While I write, she loads the truck and prepares for the day on the road. In other words, she does all the heavy work; I get to do the driving.

This is not an equal load. She does a lot more than I. All I can do is remind myself that she wants to be here, that she is on an adventure that would likely not happen without me. It's the only way I can feel good about the arrangement. I love being on the road. I love that she is here. I wish I could do more.