Let's talk about my number one worst thing in all of hyperbole-land.
Early appointments. Like, eight or nine in the morning. Bleary eyed, crampy because some reason my arm got stuck in between the couch cushions. I can count the hours of sleep I've gotten on my penises. (I mean one. I'm not a freak.) I foggily put on some clothes that would clash if I could see color, and zombie on over to a nearby caffeine dealer, where I churlishly demand coffee from an equally unhappy barista.
Somehow, I arrive at my destination without any accidents that I am aware of, and eventually, I am where I need to be, often only a few minutes late. But they were there on time. They've got a face full of pearlies so white that the sun reflecting off them seems to burn the language center of my brain out. Eyes so big and full of joy that you think they stole them from a Furby. And then, in a voice that Alvin and the Chimpunks would find grating, I hear…
Somebody's not a morning person.
No, I'm not. Thank you for reminding me.
The degree to which I am not a morning person is kind of astounding. There have been entire years of my life where I only sleep from 8 am till Noon. I once failed a Creative Writing class because it was at 9:25 am. I say "Good Morning" all day because I never get the chance to when everyone else does. I have an alarm clock graveyard. My mother used to prepare a bucket of ice water every morning just in case I slept through more than an hour of her screaming at me. Three human females have sited my sleeping habits as ample reason to not have sex with me anymore. Electroshock Therapy was originally designed as a technique to wake me up on time. My vitamin D deficiency has a caffeine addiction. When I moved out of New York, twenty-seven Starbucks closed.
True story, though I admit it MAY be a coincidence.
But I've come to accept this, and live my life as an (almost) normal person. I do my best to get what I need to get done in the hours that Almighty Evolution have given me. A lot of cool things happen between Noon and Sunrise. Lunch, the last few hours things are open, dinner, concerts, movies, all the good tv, bars, late night snacks, a lot of the bad tv also, sex, and, let's be honest, most of other people's free time. What's so great about mornings?
Well, I consulted a few of my friends that are allegedly 'morning people'. They suggested the fresh air, but I'm a smoker, so that's a relatively moot point. They argued the lack of people was a benefit, but when I roam the streets at 4:30 am, they are far more desolate, though possibly more dangerous. Some say it's the beautiful morning breeze, but that's useless to me, because my cold black heart already pumps icy mauve blood through my veins which, I suppose, are made entirely of hate.
Well, not EXACTLY, but closer than I'd like.
However, a savvy few turned my one of my few loves against me. "Breakfast!" they cried, "Is it not your most favorite thing?" Yes, but I'm not the only one. At some point over the last few decades, diner owners have collectively realized that breakfast is the greatest of all the foods by so far and long that it must be served all day, everyday, forever. I've had breakfast twice today, and neither of them were in the morning. I don't remember the last time I had breakfast in the morning. Though I'll bet you a western omelet that I hadn't slept the night before.
My point is, you 'morning people' go around preaching to the rest of us like the morning has some divine providence on productivity, and I don't think that's entirely fair. The morning is kinda shitty, and other parts of the day can do anything eight to twelve times better. You are not better than the rest of us just because you can regulate your body to be conscious at hours I'm not. I can stay up till sunrise drinking with friends, then pass out under a table and wake up at 11 ready for work. Let's see you try that.