I’m such a little strange morning creature. I never hit snooze, and even on the days I’m striving to feel like a chic combination of Holly (from Breakfast at Tiffany’s) and Kate Spade I could never bring myself to “hit snooze twice”. Instead I prefer a gentle waking from the morning light streaming in through the window spreading dappled light across my duvet. To slide out of bed dragging a soft throw with me, tip toeing up the stairs to prepare a mocha (because Starbucks doesn’t deliver yet) and enjoying the solitude of silence as those around me continue dreaming.
I relish this time to myself, hopefully spent writing, allowing the caffeine from my first cup of coffee to fully absorb into my blood stream, allowing my mind to formulate a set of plans for the day. I flip through my planner as if I’m the CEO of a fortune 500 company rather than an assistant to the assistant manager of marketing. I ask myself “What shall I do today?”, and as the caffeine begins to take affect I become increasingly more ambitious quickly jotting down plans in multicolored pens and highlighters.
I take on an almost bipolar persona, the mornings filled with mania, eagerness, optimism, all of which slowly decrease as I progress into the lethargy of the afternoon. At 8:00am I’m mapping out my route to grad school, asking myself whether I should pursue and MBA or a law degree before deciding I should obviously go with the dual program. By 3:00pm I’m crying at my desk, stir crazy, certain I’ll spend the rest of my life as a nanny if I can even persuade a family I am worthy enough to wash their dishes and fold their clothes. Each day is an emotional rollercoaster and I imagine what life would be like to live in the opposite direction. I imagine waking up cursing the sunrise, stubbing my tow as I stumble up the stairs before spilling my coffee on my white top and burning my stomach. I imagine my blood boiling as I sit in a slum of city traffic on the way to work and my mood gradually perking up as lunchtime rolls around.
I can fathom the phenomena of life as a night owl, the strange world waiting for me late into the night. For now, I prefer slipping under the covers close to 9:00 and rising each morning with a fierce ambition and readiness to take on the world (even if its fleeting).
Are you a morning person or a night person (or one of those ultra rare afternoon people)?