I'm trying to become one of the Bed People.

You know, those people who can make a cup of coffee, pick up their book, and lie in bed on a Sunday morning, reading? Maybe petting the cat at their side? I'm trying that out.

First to overcome is my body's response to waking. I am instantly awake, and that has typically meant instantly active. I can separate the two.

Another thing to combat is the family doctrine that any day is wasted that doesn't start at 6am with a packed car and rubber meeting the road. I still like to be ready to roll early, but I don't feel the need to do so at the expense of my blood pressure. Besides, if I take a little time to look around me, I will forget fewer crucial items.

Yet more programming involves some crazy messages I got over the years about laziness, sloth, and personal worth. Slug-a-beds are people who don't have a work ethic. They are not industrious and probably buy things on credit. They are the people who suck off the teat of social programs and can't get out of their own way to pull on their bootstraps.

I call shenanigans on all that crap thinking.

So here I am, having spent the last hour on the computer, listening to Weekend Edition on NPR, drinking decaf and looking out the window at Colvos Passage and the Kitsap Peninsula. I've already chatted with the Cajun, checked out retreat centers online, and seen an osprey go after a fish.

Yeah, I'll get to REI and spend that dividend today. Yeah, I'll grocery shop. I might even finish that inventory of my camping gear. And I will have done it after a lovely, relaxed morning.

And I don't even feel like going on Welfare or hitting the food bank.