It's 7 a.m. I woke up at 6:30 and couldn't get back to sleep because suddenly I'm not sure if the sugar snap peas that I blanched and froze last Saturday are not actually English peas. Finally I just got out of bed. I almost always wake up at dawn, with the light and the birds, sometimes lie there as long as an hour, but I seldom have the energy to rouse myself, and eventually I go back to sleep and wake up again at 8:30 or so.
In my dream this morning I was at my dream hotel, the one with yellowish light and tangled sheets in the room I am always -- because these are dreams -- trying to get back to. I never do, I am always waylaid in elevator banks and long hallways.