Some days it takes all I have to get out of bed in the morning.
I’ve never been a morning person. In kindergarten, the first half of the year we had afternoon session, and I loved it. The second half of the year, we had mornings, and I hated it. I remember complaining to my mom that everyone was in a bad mood in the morning, and that all the big kids would get on the bus angry, dragging their backpacks along the floor.
I take the train now and it’s still pretty much like that.
When I wake up too early, I’m struck by anxiety. Something about interrupting my sleep cycle at the wrong time. Whatever concern pops into my head first will be blown extraordinarily out of proportion at 5:40 AM. Things as small as shopping lists, remembering to mail something, how I need to get to the eye doctor…
But the worst thing this morning was that I brewed my tea in my travel mug, and then forgot it on my dresser. This is something that I do 2-3 times a week. Today, it caused me to start crying in the car on the way to the train station. Time to wean off the caffeine maybe?
Whenever I had a problem, big or small, my mom used to say “Go to bed. It will seem a little better in the morning.” Addendum: “…but not in the early morning.”