Morning Person, Part 2

The morning went as seemed to often go. The alarm's declaration that 6:30 had arrived was met with some amount of apathy on my part, though after five minutes I rolled off the bed and said a prayer with my head to the floor. The prayer lasted about twenty minutes, fifteen of which were spent in various stages of unconsciousness. When I arose once more, I spent more time than was needed on the toilet, nearly fell asleep in my cereal, and threw on a tie just in time for personal study.

Darth Vader seemed a little more persuasive this time. It was a quarter after the hour before I opened my scriptures; the time before that was spent mostly in looking through my letters to re-read the ones from Delilah. My scriptures seemed a little less engaging than they previously had; I had broken through the Isaiah block but my interest level had dropped like a cannonball off the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Companionship study came. Elder Davis was up this time; instead of his snores, I could hear the theme song from Pirates of the Caribbean.

Darth Vader dared me to go watch the movie with Elder Davis.

But not today.

Elder Davis' routine wore at me over the next week. Jesus peeked out behind a growing pile of potato chip bags on my desk. We left to tract at 10:00 the first day; we left at 10:15 the next day; we left at 10:35 te day after that. Then we did better, leaving at 10:15 again.

Soon the morning routine went like it shouldn't have: 6:30 came. I dropped out of bed and showered. Then I sagged onto the couch and slept till 10.