I look at up towards the sound of my dads voice. He is in his red and white striped pajamas smiling. I reach for my phone to check the time.
5:53
"Have you ever heard of sleeping in on the weekends"
"If you had gone to bed earlier then maybe you wouldn't be tiered, when I was your age I got up at 5:30 every Saturday...
While my Dad is talking I slowly drift back into sleep hoping he won't notice.
"UP NOW"
Well that failed
I reluctantly get out of my warm comfortable bed and slink off to put my running clothes on. I know Dad is trying to help me be more organized, and I appreciate this, but I'm exhausted. My attempts at going to bed early all end with me staring at the ceiling for two hours until I finally fall asleep. The most frustrating part of this is that my Dad is still convinced that it will work. I walk out of my room careful to not wake my mom or brother up. I would rather be grumpy and sleep deprived than have a grumpy sleep deprived mother. I walk past the kitchen towards the stairs. I find it frustrating that I have to get up and my dad doesn't. I could be in a worse situation. I start to dream up all the things that could be worse than having to get up unreasonably early.
Winning one million dollars and then told they gave the money to the wrong person
Held hostage by Aliens
Being left one hundred miles from civilization
Listening to nails drag across a chalk board for all of eternity
... Never mind I am perfectly fine with getting up early
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