The clock on my wall tells me that it's 8:09 AM, despite the fact that the computer thinks it's 8:08. Close enough, I suppose. I'm used to having fifteen-minute time-warps between rooms, so what's a minute or so among friends.
In any case, anything before 8:30 is, for me, what getting up at 4 or 5 AM would be for most other people. Because I'm spoiled. My workday doesn't normally start til 10. and I have this finely tuned morning routine where one of us (generally him) rolls out of bed between 8 15 and 8:30, and the other (generally me) gets to sleep until nine. The target time for leaving the house is 9:30, and once in a while we actually hit that target, but not usually.
Today, however, it's not even 8:30, and I'm at work. It's kind of eerie, being here so early. No one ever shows up before nine, and most folks wander in between 10 and 11. We are a company of night-owls, and most of the time this works.
There are reasons for my being here at this time – one of which was that I had to find a way to deliver the latest Laurell K. Hamilton book to . (I picked up a second copy when I purchased my own last night, after consulting him.) The book itself is A Caress of Twilight and I tend to be spoiler-prone so I'll stop there. I was pretty spacey this morning – my eyes still felt sleep-dry, and I was all bleary. So I think I was rude to him (it wasn't intentional), which sometimes happens when I talk to people before my daily dose of caffeine.
So, my plan is to zip through all my work foo, beginning at nine, and then get out of here early.
We'll see if that actually happens.