I wake, as I have for the last 4 days, at 6:30, give or take. I pick up my phone, check the time, sip water to soothe my scratchy morning throat from the straw in the big plastic cup I keep on my bedside table.
There's a moment when I consider just rolling over and napping until my alarm goes off in half an hour, but I hear a voice (it's my own) saying to me, "Don't go back to sleep."
'You wanted to get more done, and you're given a gift like this." the voice (still mine) continues, "so you'd better just get up and write," and so I do.