Monday, October 3, 2011

The Best Part of Waking Up

Insomnia has been with me from the start. As a kid, I was always the last one awake during sleepovers. [How awkward is that? One minute you're having an exciting conversation in the dark and the next you're alone in the gloom talking to yourself...perfect training for blogging...] I traded youthful rosy cheeks for chilly raccoon eyes.

As someone with insomnia, I detested mornings, and although I didn't go around saying "I'm not a morning person," I sympathized with those who did.

These days I prefer mornings. Morning is better because there is plenty of casual disorder to distract you from your angst. You're jumping out of bed, you're hitting the shower, you're shaving, you're brushing your teeth, you're searching for your iPhone, you're cursing your wife for living to see another day. Hardly a second to reflect on your failures.

"I'm not a morning person" is something people declare proudly. You rarely hear "I'm not an evening person." Puzzling when you consider how many songs, paintings, and stories there are about the oppressive texture of the night (including quite direct ones like "Help Me Make It Through the Night". There aren't many songs pleading, "Help Me Make It Through the Morning".

And you certainly aren't likely to hear a reference to the promise of the morning. As long as there is light there is day, and with that there is still hope of accomplishing something, and morning is where it all begins. Once night settles in, the race is over.

As evening comes the sadness of a day of letdowns wiggles in like a slug. Evening is the end of the light. Morning is the light at the end of the tunnel. I'll raise my morning cup of coffee to that.




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