I've gotten into the habit of sleeping in till six am, or six thirty. Feels nice.
Of course, that also means that by nine thirty, ten o'clock at night, I'm ready to pass out. So, the nightlife isn't much, but then, I haven't had much of a nightlife, other than a rare outing with T for quite a while, so I'm used to it.
In exchange, I get these peaceful mornings. I can hear my neighbors' kids, and the rat dogs* they keep as pets, until ten thirty, eleven at night, but from six am to around eight, its quiet, its peaceful. There's a gentle glow of sunlight coming in my windows and the only sounds I hear are the few people who leave for work around this time.
I can think, in these still moments, about all of the things that are usually running around in the back of my brain trying to figure themselves out.
I can think about my friends, and how much I miss them, and I can plot on how I'm going to take over the world and make whining about something you did to yourself a punishable offense.
I can think about the great times I've had in the past and the better ones that are coming in the future, because I said so and I'm too stubborn to be wrong.
I can think about the difficulties that are coming, too, and depending on the state of my emotions that day I can worry about them, or scoff at how paltry they are.
I can think about my dreams, and most days, I think I'm gonna make it there. Just because I took one tiny step forward, going back to school, everything looks like its closer to falling into line.
Heck, if I'm lucky, I've even got a ginormous mare already knocked up, to possibly start down the path to my extremely long term and just for fun goal of breeding up a strain of horses similar to the medieval war horses, to sell to the folks who are in the Society for Creative Anachronism.
Besides, come on, who wouldn't want a huge freakin horse smart enough to learn plenty of cues and make it look like they're mean and nasty, and yet gentle enough that you can take them home and put your two year old on their back and never worry? (Thats my ultimate goal, dual purpose war horses :P )
But, thats way down the line in the future. This summer I'll probably be picking up horses cheap at the sale, prettying them up and slapping some manners on them, and taking them back to sell for more money, just because they look nice and have an impressive set of turns on them. And after next year, who knows? Maybe I'll continue that, and maybe I'll get an excellent internship and they'll love me and keep me around. Maybe.
But these quiet moments, the stillness before the day starts, while I have my coffee, is when I can think about these things, turn them over in my mind like a worry stone in my fingers and figure out the ones that need figured out, smile at the ones that need smiling at, and breathe a sigh that lets all of it go, and prepares me for the day.
* Rat dogs= Chihuahuas. Some days I swear they've got at least four of them in there, some days I think it's just one. I'm swiftly coming to the conclusion that these crazy people who have oversized bug-eyed rats running around their home and call them dogs have playdates for the little yappers.