Morning Time Always Evaporates

Slowly returning from a thick little micro-nap.  I slept on the plane down here and had a good rest in my hotel last night. I allowed myself an extra hour of sleep this morning.  So why do I feel like” surfacing” back up to consciousness is such a labor?

I awoke in a different part of the city than I normally would wake in.  Outside we were a stones-throw from the Huangpu in the heart of the old International Settlement.  Out the windows the views in either direction were black and white.  I had a slit view down into an alley out to the skyscrapers across the river.  From the bathroom, I was a few floors above a collection of densely packed shikumen that extended out for a block or two, ending before a nondescript tower.  Haunted Shanghai once again reminding me of a younger pair of eyes. 

I woke early.  It was 5:00AM.  I lingered.  If I’d been home I’d be up and down and into an office-room routine popping in contact lenses, checking emails and the news. By no later than 6:00AM back home I’d be on my way to the gym.  I always plan to go to the gym, when I stay at a hotel.  But morning time always evaporates much more quickly.  In a strange bed, alone, you are distanced from your routines and I seem to linger and wait while morning time is eaten up. 

Reluctantly I packed up my sneakers and my gym clothes.  I can remember laying them out.  I’d asked what floor the gym was on when I checked in.  But by the time I was in the shower I was already running late for my meeting at 8:00AM.   The location was supposedly nearby.  Momentary panic as I looked at my map app.  It had me going across town.  But soon I could see the error and indeed it was only a walk of a few hundred meters, down and out, on to the waitan which looked bright clear on this Monday morning. 

Monday, 11/26/18