The lost art of sleeping in

I protest! Ok, so I've never been someone able to sleep in to a great extent.
My mother would tell you differently but even in the halcyon days of life as a university student, unless I tried really hard I couldn't sleep much past 10.30am. This, amongst my slacker intellectual peers, was regarded with some horror. And despite what the old adage may say, the early bird does not always get the worm, more often what (s)he gets is the job of cleaning up the beer cans, bottle tops and cigarette butts. While those days of excessive post party clean ups are long gone now, and I don't regard that with any sense of nostalgia, and 10.30 is a bit late to be laying about in bed, 7.30 is still too early to be up on Sunday.

It's an unusual sleeping pattern for a period of unemployment (I've had one before, I'd hoped it'd be my first and last combined). Generally the panic and stress keeps me up until the early hours of the morning, and the depression keeps me under the covers until the mid morning. But no, here I am, up bright end early every single day. Not that its changed anything. Last week I got interviewed and subsequently knocked back for a 2 week high-school graduate level job as a data entry person for wetland biodiversity studies. Financially speaking it wouldn't have made any difference, it WAS only two weeks, and it was a hell of a difficult commute to get out there, but I was still angry. Probably because I'm looking for any excuse to be angry. Otherwise I'm just being knocked back from the usual - admin assistant, bilingual assistant. Mostly I'm just looking forward to heading back to Australia at the moment. Should give my body clock something else to think about at least...