I actually woke up to my alarm.
This is a big deal. Not normally, no. Because normally I wake up to my alarm just fine. I get up for my 4 AM freezing cold runs and I go have my frigid morning time adventures, and that's just that. But ever since it became summer time and I moved away from all the hectic existence that is my life in Provo, I suddenly just can't wake up.
And it's not one of those, "hear the alarm go off, let out an enthusiastic groan, fumble around for the off switch, accidentally hit the snooze button and repeat the process all over again in five minutes" situations. I have set my alarm clock for varying times literally every morning since my arrival save two. I recall them very distinctly. I know that my alarm works--I have been using it for years. But I must have somehow been turning it off in my sleep every day for the last two weeks, because I have absolutely no recollection of even hearing it go off. Ever.
So the fact that I actually got up early enough to have some quiet morning study time, go on a run, get showered and dressed, and clean my room before my mom started warning me that I had better head out for my run before it got too hot out? It's a pretty big deal. I'd even venture as far as to call it a miracle.
It's a miracle.
Am I alone in this? Or are you fellow bloggers and blog readers familiar with this phenomenon as well? To be entirely honest, this is a new thing for me. But here's to hoping that it's a little less bizarre and concerning than I thought. Regardless, I've got my fingers crossed that this miracle holds out for...forever. I mean, I've got a life to live!
On a completely unrelated note, look at this picture and just try to tell me that I do not have the most adorable cupboard under the stairs sized bedroom.
And yes, that is my room in its entirety. As seen from my front porch. Darling, right?