Lately, mornings have really been pushing it.
They’re like that obnoxious friend who calls you right when you’re in the middle of something. Or a kid behind you on an aeroplane who kicks the back of your seat for one thousand hours.
They’re rude. They’re unwelcome. And frankly, they’re becoming repetitive.
I feel like yelling, “NO ONE EVEN LIKES YOU, TAKE YOUR DEMANDS ELSEWHERE,” but there’s something I’ve realised.
There is something worse than mornings.
And that’s people that like mornings.
And I just can’t understand… why.
LISTEN: Robin Bailey sleeps about four hours a night. Here’s her emotional reflection on sleep being a choice, on The Well. Post continues below.
When I wake up in the morning, I feel like I’m going to vomit and then faint and then die.
There is never a time when my alarm clock goes off where I’m ready for it. It’s always a shock. It’s always interrupting. My alarm must have gone off tens of thousands of times over the course of my life, and I’m still not at all okay with it.
Mornings are the furthest away you will ever be from being back in bed, and that is a scientific fact. They are an unwelcome reminder that today you have responsibilities.
There are always things to do and expectations to fulfill and only 15 seconds ago I was dreaming that my dog had eleven puppies and I was just laying on the ground being licked by them all.