I had a little battle with myself early this morning about going out to write before work. This took place on the couch in the living room where I stumbled before I was able to focus my eyes and make it to the shower. (That was strike one.)
Bad Me: Let’s stay here and just not get up.
Good Me: We have to get up. We have that chapter to work on and we can’t afford to lose any days.
Bad Me: Forget it. I’m tired.
Good Me: So am I, but you’ll thank me later if you help me get us up.
A minute passes. I don’t move an inch.
Good Me: Hello? Did you fall asleep again?
Bad Me: There is no way I’m moving from this spot before eight o’clock. Bitch all you want, but we’re staying.
Good Me: Please? I’ll get you chocolate.
Bad Me: (silence)
Good Me: Fine, but I’m not taking the blame for this.
Bad Me: Great. Now shut your trap. I’m trying to sleep.
(And, yeah, I’m pissed.)