The Morning Report

A friend and I (we’re both old ladies) have developed a habit of calling each other at dawn to tell the other all the stuff we’ve already accomplished before sunrise. We’re in that post-menopausal period of life where we wake up at 3 or 4 a.m. worried about the state of the world and can’t go back to sleep. So I get up and putter.

Sandy clears out the basement and puts up the Christmas tree, hangs garland, and strings lights under the cloak of darkness.

When others are just getting up or thinking about getting up we’re halfway through out day. I didn’t ask for this, but if it is my reality I might as well use it. It’s how I’ve written almost 200 blog posts this year, ridden my bike 2,400 miles, and finished a manuscript and revisions, plus published some stories and flashes.

So we each check in and give the morning report, vying with each other for the most insane list of activity like vampires feasting before the sun sends them back to the crypt. It is our way of taking control during Covid.