The power of the snooz

I just finished reading a fabulous book called "Dry" by Augusten Burroughs (my vote for Author of the Year). The book is about his journey into rehab, and the process of becoming sober. Augusten does a phenomenal job of describing the power that alcohol had over him.

I can understand that powerlessness. Some serve booze. i serve the snooz.

button that is

I'm not sure what happens between 10pm when i decide to have a productive morning of working out, quiet time and a bubble bath, and 6:30 am when my hand-as its own entity-engages in the first (of many) slaps to the almighty snooz button. maybe its the snooz gremlin who crawls out from under the bed to work his magical sleep spell. all i know is that i don't have control over what happens in the 30-60 minutes between when i'm supposed to get up and when i actually plunk out of bed.

the snooz button is my drug. i can't get enough. it started in high school, when one hit of the snooz was enough. in college, stressful times called for more...i had to have it. it's like i couldn't wait to get to sleep, just to be closer to the precious time of the morning when the snooz and i dance our sleepy dance. The snooz calls to me..."breanna, you know you want more. you don't need to do pilates today. you don't need to shower. you can get by with moderately wrinkled clothes. all that matters is this: our beautiful morning love affair."

and i respond with a slap, thinking that this will sting the snooz into leaving me alone...but the snooz doesn't work that way. you slap the snooz, and he says "alright...just turn over in your comfy duvet. we'll talk again in 4 minutes."

and so it goes.

how the snooz is able to have such power over me i'll never know. i'm trying to cut back slowly...at my most dependant i was taking maybe 8 or 9 hits of snooz each morning. today was 5. that's a start.

what beckons to you in moments of weakness? what has power over you?