Cock-A-Doodle-Damn It

Photo: What I am not doing, right now.

I'm in total denial about being a morning person; I am one, but don't tell me that (because I'm not listening). A 'morning person'--not to be confused with a mourning person, although it's possible one could lead to the other--is a retired woman in a cheerfully-colored velour tracksuit who wears matching visors and goes for power walks; it's the 'roid-raging, model-loving Wall Street broker who is up with the Tokyo Stock Exchange on one of four cell phones; it's two hippies, cleansing their bodies of impurities through chanting and Bikram yoga, right as the sun rises. I am none of these things; if anything, I'm their opposite (although I do enjoy my cell phone and the occasional yoga). I don't even do typical morning person stuff; I don't drink coffee (I'm a jittery hot mess on my own, thanks), I don't exercise, I don't have a morning commute, I don't enjoy the early-bird news, and I usually can't summon up an appetite until lunchtime. I thought writers wrote at night, as in 'the dead of'; apparently I was wrong. I used to like writing at night, but lately it's been difficult to let go of the daily grind, and so it's easier for me to start fresh in the morning. I just think it's ridiculous, being up at 7:30AM on my day off; when did I turn into my mother? <--Something I'm saying more and more these days. I remember being 14 and sleeping until 3PM; I remember the hard, sweaty, deadened sleep I used to have, and I envy it. That is a fond yet distant memory. I guess after this, I'll throw on my tracksuit and go for a power walk. *sigh*