Back in my 8ish to 5ish days, my co-worker and I had an unspoken agreement about morning chatter. It went like this. I’d walk in (usually about five minutes late). She’d already be there at her desk, head down working.
“Hey,” I’d say, proceeding to my office.
“Hey,” She’d say, acknowledging me without glancing in my general direction.
A couple of hours later, we’d greet each other for real; until then, neither of us much cared how the other one was doing.
My husband, though, is a morning person. He loves getting up early for a fresh start on the day. (I prefer my mornings old and stale, ya know, like afternoons.) Recently he was telling me about a 10K race that required runners to be in place before 6:30 am. He was taken aback by the early start.
“Do you know how dark it is at 6:30 in the morning?” he asked rhetorically, making conversation.
“No,” I said. “And may I never learn.”
Mornings just aren’t my thing. Unfortunately, our culture seems to equate morning alacrity with overall productivity. Not true. I get lots done after 12 noon and by 9 pm I’m wildly efficient. Mornings though . . . well, they always tend to cut my night’s sleep short. I can’t stand that about mornings.
There are advantages to early morning waking though. Recently, my husband and I were out and about before 8 am and--would you believe it?--the sky is actually quite lovely at that time of day.
Surprised and delighted by my discovery, I remarked to my morning person spouse, “Look at the sky! Isn’t the sunrise exceptionally beautiful today?”
He reached over, patted my knee, and responded smugly, “Actually it looks this way every morning, Aileen. You just have to be awake to see it.”
And that, my friends, is why I don’t like to be around morning people.