I
would never have done it voluntarily. In fact, I’ve spent most of my life trying to get up as late as I can. In girlhood I used to clandestinely wear my school uniform to bed so that I could bolt down to the breakfast table at the last minute every morning. My commitment to sleeping in has continued into adulthood — nervous flyers do not want to hear how late I get to the airport for a red-eye flight.
Increasingly this has become untenable. Something called “life responsibilities” keep getting in the way. The other day I had to drop Bonnie at the dog sitter before a hectic day of deadlines. It meant begrudgingly setting an alarm for 5am. For the first ten minutes
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