Scott has recently been waking up in the mornings. Yes, on about the third day in a row I fell over dead from astonishment. But I'm alive again now. I kind of like being able to talk to him when my brain is active. (Peak activity occurs around 10 a.m.) Usually we do most of our talking after dinner when he's starting to get chipper and my ability to speak coherently is already unraveling.
Evidence of how quickly I've gotten accustomed to this cataclysmic shift in routine: Just a moment ago I was sitting at my computer studying for a final and thinking, "Why are you not awake yet? I'm lonely."
Maybe this is God's way of telling me I should be focusing more exclusively on the whole studying thing.