Breakfast For The Mind

The persistent mewing from the cat next door woke me up. It was still dark. I looked at the clock. I could barely make out the hands without my glasses. The long hand pointed to somewhere between seven and eight. Just then, Wuan walked into the room. She was getting ready for work. It must be around 7.30 am then.

I closed my eyes, trying to get back to sleep. I could not. There were one thousand and one things swirling in my mind. Not a good start to the morning. I needed ten hours of sleep to wake up refreshed. I just had six. Wuan was about to leave for work. It must be nearing eight. Sleep did not come still. I trashed about restlessly, my eyes still closed. My right heel ached.

It was still too early to get up. I asked Wuan for the book. A thick one it was. When I first held it in my hand, I wondered if I could ever finish it, remembering that Tuesdays with Morrie was only half read since three years ago. I flipped the pages to where I stopped last. Henry, Clare, dates. I am already one third through now. What that confused me earlier was now keeping me intrigued as Clare began to grow up and bloom into a young woman.

I covered twenty pages this morning. And then I felt sleepy, not because the story was boring but because I had not fulfiled my ten hour quota yet. My eyelids were becoming heavy. I closed the book and went back to sleep. The Time Traveler’s Wife can wait. That was breakfast for me, for when I woke up, I dove straight to lunch. I did not know I could satiate my morning appetite that way. What an interesting concept – time traveling.