Mornings are rough. If you are like me (the cursed half of humanity that was born to hate mornings), getting out of bed will be the hardest thing you have to do all day. That is until you stumble into work clutching your coffee like the lifeline it is, trying to shake the fogginess from your brain, and praying no one bothers you for the next hour.
Don’t talk to me. Don’t need anything from me. Do you see the cup of gold in my hand? Good. Now wait until it is gone before you approach me. I try to hold back the death glare when you ignore the above request. But it is hard, really hard, so I am sorry.
It isn’t that I hate mornings. I actually quite love them when I don’t have to do any productive. Sitting on my porch with a cup of gold in my head on a crisp fall morning, that is something that might get me out of bed.
What I hate is the assumption that every jumps out of bed ready to tackle the world the moment their first alarm goes off. Lets be real, I said first because I have several and I always hit snooze. Waking up for me is a 30 minute process in which I am trying to figure out which alarm clock I have to snooze this time.
Now I am fully aware that researchers say hitting snooze only makes it harder for you to wake up later, but I am willing to bet that researcher was also a morning person. You see morning people just don’t understand. What do you mean you aren’t happy and perky to be awake? What do you mean you don’t ooze confetti and rainbows the minute you step out of bed? Why are you crabby, don’t you know it is a beautiful day.
The worst type of morning person you can find is the overly optimistic kind. You encounter one of those and you run fast and you run hard. No one is that happy to get out of bed. No one. I don’t want to hear about how much you love mornings while I am still miserably half asleep. I promise you it won’t make me like mornings, it will just make me glare at you until you stop talking. Please don’t take it personally, its not you its me. Well its a little bit you, but I will get over it.
If you are the half of humanity that is lucky enough to enjoy being productive during the hours that society dictates, please be gentle with us. Please don’t tell us we look crabby, we know, we can feel it.
– The grumpy cat that ate the morning bird because its chirping was too obnoxious.