Why is it that the morning people dominate the world??? Discriminatory, I say! My rights are being trampled on!!

Night owls of the world arise! You have nothing to lose but your sack time, and that’s already happening! We need respect! We need understanding! We need coffee!

I hate mornings.

I really hate mornings when you’re with someone who’s all perky and bright and chirpy.

They sing at you: La da ti da dahh di da doe mi so la fa dahhh …

That’s what it sounds like to me. Then, because you don’t respond because you can’t understand them, they sing at you again, more loudly this time. It’s like having a gong go off in your head.

And because you aren’t like them, they can get all huffy and defensive and even start viewing you as a lesser species.

A word of advice: it ain’t about you, morning lark.

If you think that there’s no such thing as life after death, you haven’t been to my house and seen me get up in the morning.

M. is the same way. Only worse.  He looks the way I feel. Slow. Lumbering. Somambulant.

If you really poke at me, I can start acting like a pissed off velociraptor.  A confused one.

Nothing looks right. It’s all so briiiight, and faaast, and loooud. And I hear and see it all in slow motion, no kidding. The lights are on but nobody’s home.

Coffee is my saviour. Without coffee, I wouldn’t wake up until four o’clock in the afternoon.  I wouldn’t be able to deal with plumbers, meter readers, letter carriers, work, or breathing.

If life operated the way it should, I would go to bed at one o’clock and get up at nine. I would be functioning and contented, if still not fully awake. But our 24/7 world doesn’t allow for this. We have millions of years of evolution screaming at us to go back to bed, especially while that storm is raging outside, but we have to shoehorn ourselves into a work life that our biology hates.

I really sometimes wonder what we’re doing to ourselves. Do you?