“Not the Retiring Type” Most mornings I wake to the soft buzz of an electric razor. My spouse operates on biorhythms that begin to pulse much earlier than mine. I pull the comforter over my head and nestle deeper into the pillow, muffling this intrusion as I wait for the good-bye kiss that signals his departure. Then I slide softly into another hour of slumber. But there was no return to sleep on the autumn morning when that good-bye kiss woke me with a start. He was wearing