Mornings

My bed is a prison.  It is just so warm, the sheets swallow me up and refuse to let go of me.  Something in the back of my mind tells me that I need to get up, but my body knows it will take so much effort to try and escape that wonderful prison.
Ohhhhhh... mornings!
Ps... I did't just get up...  I hate sleeping in till 9 and that's the very latest I can sleep to.  But when I did get up, this is what it felt like.

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