The other morning I woke up and wanted to write.
This is a non-thing for me.
I am firmly in the, “Let’s do everything between the hours of 11:00 PM and 4:00 AM” camp in life, along with the other zombies in the world who shuffle along, cursing themselves for choosing the wrong end of the 2:00 AM debate.
*2:00 AM debate: “I could go to sleep right now because I have to get up at 7:00 AM, or I could stay up and write all these moving and profound ideas I have that will probably turn into the next Great American Novel!*
The world is not kind to night people, of this I am sure.
Morning people have it made. They get up at 4:00 AM and work out and craft and make their own headboards for $0.15 and then, hours later, when I stumble out of bed, they look at me all chipper and say, “Isn’t this just the best morning ever? I got so much done!”
And I glare at them and burn bridges and have to apologize around 2:00 PM with an, “Oh no, did we speak this morning? I’m SO sorry. I’m not a morning person.”
And they smile and I smile, but I have a feeling we don’t really understand each other.
Or at least I don’t understand them.
We are a different species of humans, morning and night people, two that probably weren’t meant to interact except during the golden hours of 3:00 PM to 5:00 PM when we are both fully awake and functional.
And maybe not even then.
I’m thinking this week I should add “Be fully awake and functional” to my goals list along with, “Figure out why I wanted to write last Wednesday morning” and “Remember to drink water.”
It’s looking to be a very important next seven days over here in LA.
I should get some sleep.