Sometimes mornings need to unfold on their terms. You go to bed the night before with Plans, to wake up, feed the dog, read, meditate, shower, work out, then go for a walk before starting the day.

But the morning has its own Plans, mainly involving sleeping and being grumpy about the amount of light that is infiltrating your cave of a bedroom. Sometimes the morning needs fought, beaten to submission.

But sometimes the morning brings a big stick and you take one look at it and say to hell with that fight, I didn’t even want to meditate anyway.

And then it’s nine o’clock and there’s not even any coffee yet but the bed is warm and it’s a Sunday anyway and frankly you must have needed it.

And the trick then, what you absolutely must not do, is relitigate the fight you avoided earlier. No, it would not have been better if you’d taken on the morning, armed as it was to the teeth. You made the right call.

So enjoy the warmth of the bed and the chirp of the birds outside. Let the morning have its victory.

You both deserve it this once.