Adventures in Listening to My Conscience…

Early this morning, I rolled over and squinted at the sun in my eyes.

“C’mon, get up! If you say you’re going to get up, you have to get up. You can’t just decide not to, like a rabbit with chickenpox!” my conscience demanded.

I squinted at my conscience. “What??!!?”

I had promised no one, not even myself, that I would get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday. I didn’t like the tone my conscience was taking with me, and I realized that my conscience is not at it’s best early in the morning. My slowly waking brain toyed with the possibilities…”Hmmm, so if someone wanted to convince me to rob a bank, they might have a better chance at 7am, since my conscience is still groggy and inarticulate…”

My conscience, embarrassed at the stupidity of the ‘rabbit with chickenpox’ bit, replied petulantly, “Well then, it’s a good thing banks aren’t open at 7am, isn’t it. Humph! Now get up!”

I rolled over and went back to sleep for a little while.

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