Somebody please kick me out of bed.

I lay in bed this morning for a full 30 minutes, trying to convince myself that I should get up. 

That I could get up. 

That I would get up. 

And I would run. 

That was really the hard part. 'Cause had you asked me to get up for coffee, I'd have been on it like white on rice. And once I was out the door, it was a glorious run.

So why is it so bloody hard to get out of my very comfy, warm bed when it is followed with the thought of running? Why can't I just get out of bed, head toward the coffee maker, and just before hitting the magic button, yell, "Fooled ya!", thus scaring the crap out of myself. With my heart racing, I could claim to be awake enough to run. Or at least too awake to go back to sleep.

So, I'm thinking I need an elf. They're quite wee, from my understanding. Which, of course, means they eat and shit less. It could live behind the coffee maker, and jump out at me first thing in the morning, scaring me so badly that I'd have to go for a run to calm down. Presuming I don't pee myself after having an elf jump out at me.

Are real elves as big as Elf On A Shelf? Or do real elves use doll house furniture? Would an Elf On A Shelf with a motion detector be able to tell me to go for a run? 'Cause they're kinda creepy. That may be cheaper than trying to sort through the immigration papers of elves. Particularly because, like small ankle- biting dogs, I imagine elves are loud and needy. Especially with things like food. And fair wages.