Doomed to an early start

I am finally getting a mattress so I can sleep in a bed tomorrow.  It has been fine sleeping on fold out/sofa, but it has been getting harder and harder and I have been getting less and less sleep.  I am usually the second awake by around thirty seconds (bear is the first) and I have to be last to bed, although DH and DF are considerate.   I suspect I reached the end of my tether a while ago.  The reason it was so important for me to sleep downstairs is no longer relevant.  I am no longer so worried about bear wandering into the kitchen if I am asleep with two floors between me and the kitchen.  Mainly I am very confident that bear will politely, calmly and persistently request that I go down to the kitchen and make him breakfast, thank you so much.

I am really looking forward to this mattress, I am on pins in case they have problems delivering due to peculiar road and vicious traffic at both ends of the street.  I am dreading hoicking a mattress up two flights of stairs.  When I received the text letting me know the estimated time of delivery, though, I nearly said a rude word.

The much coveted mattress is coming between 7am and 8.45am.  This means I have to get bear into before school club and DH has to take him, as I can't guarantee getting bear ready and out if the delivery is later than @ 8am, by which time DH has to be on his way to work.

I hate getting up early, I loathe it with a passion.  I tolerate it for bear.  The poor delivery person who is delivering the mattress will get my best attempt at a sunny morning face but at 7am my best isn't very good.   I will remember it isn't the delivery driver's fault and it would be an ideal time for many people.  I shall be in bed straight after bear on Monday night and possibly for the rest of the week.

(just as an aside, bear's teeth seem fine and coping well with a variety of treats.  I am keeping quiet and waiting and seeing.  He still looks like he has fallen and skidded along an unmade road and came second, which is exactly what happened, but that's normal for a six year old lad)

I will be up at the normal time tomorrow but out early as I am going to visit darling uncle.  It is a long journey, then I will be trying to clear out his cottage, then hospital visiting, then more clearing and then a long trip home.  Darling uncle is a hoarder.  He is convinced that a cake mixer that hasn't been used since 1987 has monetary value.  It might if it hadn't been kept in a dusty, damp and mouse infested cupboard.  It wasn't that brilliant to start with iirc.  It is hard to negotiate sometimes.  Also darling uncle's diabetes is badly affected by the infection so his thinking isn't always reliable.  I have been there before.  He has told me to throw things out before and then complained because I've thrown stuff out.