X Minutes: Getting up in the morning morphs into memory

(5 minutes of writing anything and everything that pops into my head, as long as I keep writing.)

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There are so many things to write about! What gets me up in the morning. What I had for lunch today. My weight-loss "journey". What ways I feel old and decrepit and want to have a tantrum about technology. Maybe I'll wait on the technology rant.

I've never thought too closely on what gets me out of bed in the morning. I was thinking about this because of a book title I heard yesterday. It was something like, What Gets You Through the Night, which is about the Arabian Nights and Scheherezade.

What gets me out of bed in the morning? I've never thought of it as being an option. Even when I really, really, really didn't want to get out of bed in the mornings, back in high school, it wasn't an option. I went to school. This makes me think about high school a little differently. I wonder if I was depressed in high school and didn't realize it. Depression wasn't on my radar at the time, but I do remember being miserable a fair bit of the time. Not ALL of the time.

I remember running across a recording that my dad made for me on the little hand-held mini tape recorder. You know the type, that people like doctors would make carry around to make notes into to. I don't remember exactly how I ended up listening to it, or anything else about the recording except the fact of its existence. I only remember discovering this thing in my room or something, and of course I turned it on.

What I do remember is that it was about how negative I was about getting up and going to school, and presumably how I have a lot to be positive about and thankful for. Presumably. I kinda wonder, now, where it went. Probably it was recorded over after I listened to it. Don't remember having a conversation about it with Dad or anything at all. Just, this little snapshot and sound byte memory.

There are days I wish my memory was more reliable. I wonder why it is that I don't remember a lot of things from my youth. Sometimes I feel robbed and bereft of a lot of things. Some days I think it's probably for the best.