I have always wanted to be a morning person. It just never happened for me. I tried all the tricks of the trade, especially the entire alarm clock thing. But, for whatever reason “the morning” is just not for me. Ah, for me, I agree with Ray Charles, the night time is the right time.
|Five more minutes Ray?|
I’m grumpy without at least three cups of coffee. I am lethargic until I have a shower, eat a solid breakfast (none of this cereal crap), have another cup of coffee, and then have lunch. And then, finally, I’m awake and potentially happy. I can face it, I’m an afternoon person.
And I have to say to all you haters, quit being so damn harsh on night-owls. “Oh good morning, whoops I mean afternoon, sleepyhead.” Oh really? I was up until two in the morning; you went to bed at nine. Do I dig on you Mr. Rip van Wrinkle? No. Do I really care that you have already put in half-a-day? Not really, I put in my half while you were asleep. And do I say anything negative to you early bird? Give the sleepers a rest, will you (yes, this is a terrible pun)?
Oh right, the point. So I wanted to be a morning person, and it finally happened. Simple solution: move into a flat on a busy road that’s adjacent to commuter railroad that sits under a flight path to one of the worlds busiest airports.
It is 6:46am and I have only had one cup of coffee. This is what happens. Sorry.