The numbered days

Finally it's become like December. I did not want to leave my cozy, warm bed this morning. But, come to think, getting up for me used to be harder. Was it because I was young? or was it because the winter was colder? Perhaps both. When you are young you can sleep long hours, but somehow you wake up early in the morning as you grow older. Though I fondly recall the days when I slept until noon, I appreciate early wakening now. A day becomes longer. I can do a lot of things. The first thing in the morning I do is pray. Then I read a newspaper drinking tea or coffee. This quiet time is perhaps the best in a day. Then the day drowns in everyday things until I go to bed. How many days more I can do this in my life?
Ooops, I gotta go or I'll miss the Shinkansen train!