I am just not a morning person and I have absolutely no ability to be a nice person until at least one in the afternoon rolls around. I can stumble out of bed at five a.m. or I can stumble out around ten a.m. but I just do not become a real person until around one in the afternoon no matter what time my eyes appear to be open. I am what some polite individuals would refer to as surly if I am forced to function before I am fully awake. Actually it would be much more appropriate to say that I am down and out right nasty mean if you wind up in my line of vision before I am fully awake. I snarl, I curse and I have occasionally even been known to bite, I am just not a morning person.
I wake up in some strange form of brain fog that has me incapable of human thought patterns. The only thing that seems to dissipate this fog is a number of cups of hot black coffee and the passing of time. Until it lifts I consider myself innocent of all acts that might incur while I am under its dark influences.
The cat understands this and actually seems to be under the same mode of thinking as myself. I roll out of the bed each morning stretching, yawning and scratching and she jumps off her spot on my dresser to head for the computer. I click the computer on as I pass it on my way to put on the coffee. The cat will by now have her furry little bottom firmly planted on the mouse pad and be busy insuring that the computer performs as it is supposed to. I stare at the black coffee as drip by drip it fills the pot, as soon as there is a sufficient enough to have one cup without it knocking me off my feet, I steal one. Then back I go to the computer with a piping hot cup of coffee and that is exactly where Kitty and I remain until the brain fog lifts. This is my morning routine, it occurs every morning without fail, the cat has it memorized in her wee little kitty mind and would be shocked if it ever differed. We both think that this morning behavior is perfectly normal.
Now this is the point in my story and in my world where things start to go horribly wrong. For some unknown and never to be understood reason I agree to give in to my long term boyfriends desire that he and I become domiciled together. I discover the day after I move in that he is a morning person! He wakes at four a.m. each morning.
"FOUR A.M.! What kind of a lunatic wakes up at four a.m.?"
Not only does he wake up at four a.m. each and every morning, but he also expects me to wake up at four a.m. Worse yet, he thinks that it is natural for a man to need to perform certain functions at four a.m. and that his woman should be pleasantly waiting for this to occur.
I don't think so. It is much more likely that his face will be ripped from its current positioning than that I will be up cheerfully smiling and doing anything that might in any way be misinterpreted as exertion of any shape or form at four a.m. I just can't envision me in a cute little apron cooking pancakes at six a.m. after having just concluded a loving interlude at four a.m. I am wondering if this man has any notion of who he has been dating all this time because I am quite sure that he has by some small error in judgement asked the wrong woman to share his world with him. There seems to be a little case of mistaken identity going on here. I am not a morning person.
The cat understands this so why can't the man. For some god unknown reason he just can't seem to manage to be awake without me? He keeps coming back into the bedroom to talk to me. Then when I actually begin to think that I might be able to actually drift back off into my favorite land he is back again to ask me a question. Fifteen minutes later he is back to lean over to give me a kiss and tell me that he loves me. Then at seven a.m. he once again appears in the bedroom doorway to let me know that he is now leaving for work. Agggggghhhhhhhhhhhh! By this time it is light outside and I can't force my weary old brain into a total shut down so I have to get up in and survive the morning in my half alive, zombie mode, state of mind. The cat jumps off the dresser and heads for the computer.
I am not a morning person. Polite conversation won't help to wake me before the brain fog lifts. Trust me it only serves to confuse my mind further! It is sort of like asking a drunk to walk a straight line. It just doesn't work and a person who is not a morning person is just not capable of developing rational human thought patterns in the morning.
There is only one point in time when my day begins. It is when the fog lifts, the sun peeks through, and voila the squeeky wheels of thought begin to turn. The cat understands this so why can't the man?
So here it is, it is now about seven months since I moved in. He is still a morning person and I am definately still not a morning person. He is still like a little puppy bouncing around the bedroom each morning trying to accidently wake me in some manner that can be considered not to be his fault.(I must admit that he has grown a little wiser and now tries to make it look like it isn't his fault that I am awake.)But the point here is that he still seems to need to make sure that he wakes me each morning. Why?
I don't expect a morning person to sleep with me till ten or eleven so why in heck does he need me to be up at the crack of dawn with him? The cat knows better than to bounce all over me till I get up, it is hazardous to her health, and she knows it. So why can't the man figure this one out? He's been yelled out, had things thrown at him, had the silent treatment, and even had his life threatened but he stills sneaks in to wake me up before he leaves for work?
Is he perhaps insane? Just likes to live life dangerously? Believes in assisted suicide maybe? WHY? WHY?
I am not good at 4 a.m., nor am I good at 7 a.m., 8 a.m., or 10 a.m. I am just not a morning person. Why is it so difficult for people who are morning creatures to understand this?
Nothing that you can ever do will succeed in making me into a morning person. It is not in me. I was not created that way. I will never ever want to be up and attempting to function before my brain fog has lifted. I am not capable of functioning until the brain fog has lifted. Ask the cat. She understands.