Every morning during the week I wake up at 6:30 AM.
It’s painful, the noise of my little bobbing alarm clock. It tugs at the tail of my dreams as though it were a kitten unraveling a knitted blanket. It jabs and pokes and then just starts to walk away with bits of my dream following in its wake.
I touch the top of it gently with the tip of my index finger and the noise subsides as I rapidly fall back into the dream scape that fills my nights. It’s hardly more than a breath there though, barely a moment before the alarm is at it again and after a few bouts with the clock I am up and at it on my feet, an unwilling member of the day.
I look over my sleeping family, my darling husband curled neatly into his own dreams across our vast expanse of bed. His alarm has been going off every 3 minutes since 6 AM. My daughter, by this time, has invariably made her way into our room and has found a way to curl up and sleep in the middle of the bed on top of our red velvet bed covers.
Her face is sweet and passive, a tiny smile tugs at her lips and I leave her be for just a moment more as I wipe the sleep out of my eyes and begin my day.
I stretch and settle my chic black glasses on my pillow creased face. They, and my shiny black hair (which always seems to look perfect in those wee hours of the morning… that is until I try to brush it) strike a sharp contrast with my sleepy visage.
I reach for my blue jeans, pulling them up, zipping and buttoning while still half asleep before I pad into the kitchen to make coffee for my man.
5 days a week. and so it goes again and again… my blue jeans see a lot of action.
In my younger days. My hipper days. My short skirt and stockings days, I wore jeans to paint something. to wash my laundry. to camp.
they were a necessity for the down and dirty parts of life.
now though, they’re an after thought… a uniform I don each day as I rise early to get my 5 year old to school…
I used to think that I wasn’t a denim kind of girl… now I hardly wear anything else.
This post was written into response to David McMahon’s weekend wandering of January 20th. This week he asks: Do you wear denim?