On getting up early

Obviously it’s late, so this is not going to be pretty. I hate getting up early for anything, and I especially hate getting up early for either any early morning meeting or an early morning flight. For years I taught class at 8:00 a.m. What was I thinking. I love to stay up late and wrap the darkness around me as I write. Fatigue seems to release the creative juices, knocks down some of the internal editor’s walls, and let’s the imagination just wander aimlessly through the blind alleys of my mind. But if I have to get up early, I’m going to feel bad and sleepy, which is a horrible combination. I was not made for seeing sunrises. I was made for admiring sunsets. I know all of that stuff about the early bird, but I’m just not buying it. What a horrible metaphor, catching the worm and all. You need any worms? Not me. To sleep the sleep of the just plain tired and not worrying about the morning rush half hour is a great pleasure. Driving to work with all the crazies who slept too long and are now speeding to work is just plain dangerous. Between drinking their coffee, putting on their make-up, texting, eating an egg-whatever, and juggling the children, these people are just plain dangerous. No, it’s better to head into work after 8:00 a.m. and it’s even better when you head in after 9:00 a.m. If I can just sleep a few more minutes, drink another couple of sips of coffee, eat my toast while it is still hot, I am a much happier camper. Rushing around in the morning is for the birds, people who don’t plan well, and the frantic. I would rather not associate with that boiling morass of multi-taskers, and go to work in my own sweet time. This does require, however, a bit of discipline because otherwise no one would come in at all, sleep the day away, and nothing would ever get done. On second thought, that doesn’t sound completely awful at all.