It doesn’t matter how early I go to bed, how much sleep I get, or how good the sleep in question was.
I still take it as a deeply personal and intentional insult when I wake up to an alarm clock. At 6:01 a.m., I firmly believe that the alarm clock is a self-righteous, annoying spawn of Satan, who lives and breathes to tick me off.
I am seriously not a morning person. I thought I would outgrow this after high school. Then I hoped I’d out grow it after college. I REALLY hoped it would get better once Demon Baby slept through the night. I REALLY, REALLY hoped I’d get used to it when I went back to work.
But, alas, I now have to chalk this one up to genetics, nature or some voodoo hex I’ve yet to discover.
In the meantime, my family will just have to maintain the morning safety perimeter until I’ve had my Diet Coke, lest they ask for breakfast too soon and draw back a nub.