Having been raised in East Texas, I can tell you that there are some people whose accent is thick enough to make "owl" sound like "I'll."
It’s three o’ clock in the morning (approximately), and I’m staring at the glow of my laptop’s monitor. The only sounds I hear are the gently clacking of my keyboard and the humming of the window A/C unit. I can’t hear the usual chaos of the busy street below—mostly because it’s quite empty.
I do this a lot.
The Big Guy Upstairs Does Not Apparently Want to Grant My Wishes
If I could change one thing about myself, it would probably be my night-owl tendencies. I’ve always wanted to be one of those morning people who can wake up at the crack of dawn, sit at the breakfast table and read the morning paper. Morning people always seem to be more productive than normal. Perhaps it’s because when I wake up, I spend the first five minutes trying to figure out how much longer I can sleep without being late to whatever I’m waking up for. I seem to always be staying up later than I probably should, doing mindless activities to forestall going to sleep. My brain acts like a stubborn six-year-old. And the worst part of it all is the fact that I actually love sleeping. Sleeping is God’s gift to mankind, rivaled only by sliced bread and a Christopher Buckley novel.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP… (Or, a Typical Day)
6 a.m.: The alarm goes off three hours before whatever it is I’m waking up for (class, meeting, work, etc.). The alarm clock is designed after the old wind-up alarm clocks that reigned before the advent of the clock radio. The ringing is loud enough to roust a corpse from its eternal slumber.
6:01 a.m.: The ding-donger between the two bells must be stopped before the alarm is turned off because otherwise it will keep ringing as I fumble around for the off switch. The small hammer is contained. The switch is flipped.
6:02 a.m.: It’s 6. That means… I can sleep for another hour at least. Wait—I showered last night. That means another thirty minutes. Right? Right.
6:02 and 1/2 a.m.: Reset alarm for 7:30 a.m. Go back to sleep.
7:30 a.m.: Alarm jolts to life. Hammer must be stopped. Alarm switched off.
7:31 a.m.: I really don’t have to leave until 8:30. And it’ll take less than half-an-hour to get ready. I can sleep some more. Huzzah!
7:31 a.m.: Reset alarm for 8 a.m. Go back to sleep.
8 a.m.: Alarm. Off. Up. Day Begins. Unless, of course, I don’t set my alarm at 7:31, figuring I’ll rest my eyes for 10 minutes or so. Murphy’s Law states that I’ll then accidentally fall asleep and wake up with the minimum time needed to get going or worse.
Meanwhile, across town some girl named Margaret did indeed wake up at 6 when her alarm first went off (in fact, she woke up before it went off and waited to get out of bed until she heard it ringing). Margaret managed to scrounge up a delicious breakfast meal while I was busy sleeping in. She caught up on news and did some laundry in the process. She’s a pretty productive person who keeps a garden out back and a Julia Child cookbook on the kitchen counter.
Sometimes I hate Margaret. Then I feel bad about hating her. It’s not her fault I’m not a morning person.
The reason I’m not Margaret is because my night-owl tendencies are exaggerated by a) my job and b) my being a college student. Invariably I would always end up staying up late to put the print product to bed. All the while stupidly signing up for morning classes (but then again, why is it that the one class you need is always at the one time you don’t want it to be?).
My schedule is completely out of whack. If I could normalize my sleeping patterns, my inner Margaret could come out. But it only takes one night to throw everything off-kilter again. Inner Margaret sure is a petulant kid.
Any advice? I’d love to hear it. How do all of you night owls deal with morning? And morning people, what’s the deal? How can I join your super-awesome club?
