Wake me up before you go-go!
It seems like everyone is boarding the “feel good Friday” blogging train and posting happy, optimistic posts about their favorite things and other fantastically fun alliterations for the letter “f”. Normally I like to jump on that bandwagon, too, because I generally prefer to send my readers into the weekend with something cute and uplifting, but since today is Good Friday and I typically observe most of this weekend with a somber attitude (until Sunday when everyone can be happy again and stuff their faces with Peeps and get fake Easter basket grass all over their houses), I think I’m going to stick with yesterday’s theme of self-loathing and talk about something else I really, really need to change about myself.
I know, I have an amazing ability to bring the mood of the entire internet way, way down, but this isn’t really that serious, trust me. Well, it’s a big deal to me, and I’m hoping that maybe you guys can offer me some of your suggestions as to what I can do about it.
I can’t wake up.
If “coma” could be used as an adjective, that’s the word I would use to describe myself. I’m a walking coma.
You know how newborns and young children need like 10 hours of sleep every night? I need at least 15. And as you can imagine, that’s pretty difficult to pull off when you work full time and have a husband who wants to talk to you occasionally.
I don’t know why, but I feel like I can never get enough sleep. And I know that it’s not because I’m malnourished or overexerting myself in any way—I’m just preposterously lazy.
|If I'm lazy, then Joey is the KING of the lazies ...|
Every week night, without fail, once the clock strikes 11:00 pm, I’m like, “See ya later, Clayton” and I immediately take myself upstairs to cozy up in bed with my Kindle. I set my alarm for 6:30 a.m. because 7 hours of sleep is more than an adequate amount of rest for someone my age, but I set the alarm knowing full well that this will never happen. I chuckle at my tenacity as I fall asleep, actually plotting the early morning run I’m going to have and the delicious, nutritious breakfast I’m going to prepare—I'm adorable!
I love the idea of getting up early, I just can’t do it.
When our respective alarms go off at 6:30 a.m., Clayton diligently drags himself out of bed and gets into the shower just like a responsible adult. Me? I just roll over, re-set my alarm for 7:20 and pray that Clayton doesn’t have to come back into the room for anything.
My alarm goes off at 7:20 and as I groggily shut it off, I think, “I don’t have to wash my hair this morning. I washed it yesterday. I can just pull it into a pony tail and no one will notice.” Alarm is reset for 7:40.
Alarm goes off at 7:40, and I shut it off in a drunken stupor of sleep. “You know, I don’t have to wear make-up either. Maybe that will just detract from the fact that my hair’s greasy.” Alarm is thusly reset for 8:00.
Alarm goes off at 8:00 and I finally yank myself out of bed, resigned to the fact that I’m not going to shower, I’m not going to wash my hair, and I’m not going to put on anything but mascara. Who cares if I look ugly? I don’t have to impress anyone. My husband’s already at work, so I’ll just slap some foundation on my face before he gets home. (after all, we gotta keep some of the romance and mystery alive!)
After scurrying around the bedroom in a frenzied tizzy, I toss Joey outside for a quick potty trip, drop an English muffin into the toaster, and dump myself into my car with merely seconds to spare.
I start my morning rushed, I get to work in a bad mood, and my ploys to talk myself out of make-up and bathing have gone horribly awry because now I feel ugly and greasy. Consequently, I start my day off on the wrong foot and everyone knows how messes like that can snowball into even bigger woes throughout the day.
I’ve thought about luring myself out of bed earlier in the morning with the promises of doughnuts or treating myself to some shopping after work (I’m not above bribing myself), but that’s just going to give me a stomach ache or get me in trouble with my credit card. And how pathetic am I that I won’t get up early unless there’s some kind of reward system in place? Can’t the satisfaction of taking my time, looking decent, and starting my day in a Zen-like state be enough of a reason?
Clearly the answer to that question is, “NO.”
I’ve considered getting up early for some light yoga or meditation, but that will essentially just be me taking my slumber in bed and turning it into slumber on the floor.
I’m so jealous of my friends who can wake up early to run or workout. I want to do that so badly, but every time my alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m. with the idea of “Heck yeah! I’m gonna bang out 5 miles before work!”, I start laughing and just adjust my pillow, immediately falling back asleep. I don’t know why, either. 2 years ago for a whole week straight, I got up and went to the gym before work and I was totally AMPED for the entire day. I was far more awake than any cup of coffee or lemon water could ever make me and my energy level remained annoyingly high for the whole work day. With awesome benefits like that, why wouldn’t I want to keep getting up early to run?
Because sleep is so, so very beautiful.
And I can always run after work.
I have an excuse for everything.
You know how people daydream about being famous musicians or TV personalities or movie stars? I used to do that, but now I daydream about being a productive member of society. I look out the window and fantasize about getting up with the sun and sitting at my kitchen table, reading a book while I sip a cup of coffee and eat my breakfast. It’s such a beautiful image that a tear almost comes to my eye.
And the most asinine part of the entire situation is that I HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE THIS! People can’t just snap their fingers and become famous celebrities—it takes many years of hard work and a ridiculous amount of luck. But getting up early? I JUST HAVE TO WAKE UP EARLY. That’s it. I have to just shut off my alarm clock AND SIT UP.
For someone who works extremely hard at their job and maintains an intense training schedule every single day of her life, you’d think waking up early would be a piece of cake (mmmm, cake!), but it’s not.
For you early risers out there, how do you do it? Any tips or tricks? Is there any kind of voodoo magic involved? Or am I just really that pitiful?