As Far As I Can Tell

It’s not that I have a problem with mornings, just the waking up part. I’ve tried various alarms from radio, CD, computer controlled, beeping, and buzzing. Eventually I learned that the type was unimportant as long as there was more than one. I put the second one across the room at first, I used to keep a third in the kitchen, and my current strategy places it in the bathroom. By the time I shut if off I’m already next to the shower; I might as well get in.

One summer when I was too young to be employed in any other way I worked on a detasseling crew. I would wake up at 5 so my mom (bless her) could take me to the bus full of other grumpy, sleepy, 14 year olds. We would stop at a field before the sun had fully risen and wet with morning due I would slosh through the mud, stinging my forearms on the corn leaves as I used them to shield my face. I was unusually small for my age so I would often have to jump for the tassel, cutting my chin on the rough leaves as I landed.

The memory of being cold and wet, halfway down a row of corn at 6 a.m. has frozen in my mind as what “morning” means. What could be more opposite then a warm blanket, soft pillow, and a cat curled up by my legs. Regardless, I do need to wake up and I’ve devised other tricks besides alarms over the years. I’ve scheduled morning classes, met friends for breakfast, and currently I’m waking up before Meredith to force myself to get going. If I don’t wake up I’ll make her late and it seems that responsibility is my best alarm clock.

I actually really like the morning once I’m out of bed, the quiet and calm being just right for a hot cup of coffee and an update from NPR. Getting up early means my first emotion of the day isn’t stress and I can ease into my schedule rather than jumpstarting it. I still don’t want to get dirty, wet, and cut-up in a corn field first thing after waking up, but I might used this extra time to start blogging more regularly.