I have the same fight every morning: I never want to wake up. I lie there between dreams and awakening, fighting off the inevitable, convincing myself that yes, I can snuggle in deeper for another hour or so. But knowing that I really can't, that I certainly shouldn't. Usually the thought of a fresh cup of coffee (delivered to me in bed this morning) helps, and I throw off the covers, greet the yawning kitties and climb down the ladder.
And it occurs to me: maybe this morning fight is related to the night time fighting off of the inevitability of sleep? It seems that as much as I hate to wake up, I also hate to fall asleep and will rage against it, reading into the wee hours until my eyes finally surrender.
It's a vicious circle