I got up just before five this morning. Not even the cats’ fault—they got locked out much earlier—and I’ve had two cups of coffee since. I used to get up and do things in the early morning, the wee hours, but for the last indeterminate period I’ve been sleeping in. Two hits on the snooze, sometimes three. My handy wrist alarm—the only thing the Microsoft Band does well—never gets me up. But this morning I figured no way sixty minutes of sleep was going to have me in a good pattern when I needed to get up so I rolled out of bed, fed the cats, made some coffee, played on the computer. It feels all right, though I suppose I won’t really pay for it until later today.