I like sleeping in. There’s something comforting to being able to turn around in bed once more, snuggle in your blankets and continue to snooze around for just a couple more minutes. Or a half hour. Or an hour. Or more.

The problem for me: sleeping in isn’t an option, lately. Every Saturday morning I have to chat at 8 am for the course I’m taking, and by Sunday (the only day I actually get to sleep in), my internal biological clock is fine tuned so well, that I’ll be up well before the “wake-up-hour” I’ve determined to be a sensible time. Oh, how I wish for that extra half hour, or hour or so.