That indescribable expression peculiar to people who hope they have not been asleep, but know they have.
He remained, weeks after awakening, in that period of early-morning consciousness that allows easy re-entry to dreaming. His limbs still tingled with the residue of sleep, and most days he wanted badly to allow it to overtake him again.
I can get ready in five minutes, but getting out of bed takes forever.
I hate mornings.
If you really think about it, hitting the snooze button in the morning doesn't even make sense. It's like saying, 'I hate getting up in the morning-so I do it over... and over... and over again.'
I'm not going to lie: I'm awful at mornings. Once I'm awake, it still takes me half an hour to actually get out of bed.
I never manage to get to bed early on Sunday night but this doesn't matter, as I don't know one level of exhaustion from another.
I wake up naturally and begrudgingly around 6:10 A.M. That's wired in so deeply that I wake up at that time no matter where I am, in any time zone. I wish I could sleep later.
A time when it is far too early to arise, but so late that going to bed makes small sense.
Our circadian biology, and the insatiable early-morning demands of a post-industrial way of life, denies us the sleep we vitally need.
We have stigmatised sleep with the label of laziness.
Do you ever rub your eyes and suddenly find you're awake and not asleep, as you'd grown to suspect you were?
Since childhood, I've never been a morning person. I need something exciting, out of my comfort zone, to get out of bed.
I find I often just fall into a stone-like sleep, right in the middle of the day, just sort of clonk. I can't work for extended periods when I'm beginning something. But if I'm at the end of something, I can work on for hours and hours and hours.
I think they're going to force us to eat lots of cake and then take an unreasonably long nap.
I can't say that I always want to get out of bed, you know.
I remember lying down for a nap one day at about 4:00 and walking up at 11:00 the next morning.
the more naps you take, the more awakenings you experience.
All my life I have battled the alarm clock, pummeling the snooze button over and over with mounting self-loathing until the shame is finally strong enough to lever me upright.
There is no sunrise so beautiful that it is worth waking me up to see it.
I'm that person: I will literally do everything to not get out of bed, so I have alarms set for every 15 minutes.
I often set two alarm clocks because I'm afraid the first one won't actually make me get up.
Even though disciplined sleeping habits and the adrenalin of live radio ensures that we are very awake while on duty, there is evidence of a phenomenon called circadian desynchronosis which causes one's brain to function slowly at those times of day when it thinks it should be asleep, regardless how wide awake the body is.
There are of course mornings when you wouldn't mind a lie in.
The only thing that's really hard for me is when I go to bed after everybody else in my house gets up. And that - you just feel stale. It just feels awful to be still finishing your day when everybody else is starting theirs.
