Sounds of a xylophone plays in my dream until I realize it’s my alarm. Slightly alert to my surroundings, my mind searches for recognition of the day of the week I am waking in. I roll over, reach for my phone, as one squinty eye looks at the time. I know I should get up, but the little voice inside me whispers “I don’t wanna.” I lay debating to reset my alarm or muster the energy to rise, yet my body remains limp, as though this awake state is just a dream.
Focusing more on my breathing and less on the noise in my head that is waking this sleeper, my eyes flutter and drift close to view the blackness behind my lids. I have returned to my dream, just as the noise from the second alarm has me bounding out of bed for the rain locker.