MORNING PEOPLE


Everyone knows that the world is divided into two kinds of people: Larks and Owls.

Larks love the mornings. Every morning, at the ass crack of dawn, they pop out of bed like a bunch of smiley creepy jack-in-the-boxes, before going for a run around the village, or composing entire symphonies, or eating thousands of goji berries, or singing really chipper hymns of praise to the Sun Goddess, or whatever.

Unlike me, larks don’t wake up every morning to a spectacular shit-pile of negative thoughts, which in my case, looks something like this:    

  • At least when I’m in a nursing home I won’t have to do THIS
  •  I’m so tired I must have got M.E.
  •  Would it be possible or practical to install an oxygen cylinder in the bedroom?
  •  If I don’t get up NOW, or at the very latest before the alarm clock says 7:28, something awful will happen.
  •  I could probably gain an extra half hour’s sleep if I home educated. 
  •  I wish I was three.
  •  Why is this bedroom so cold?
  • and …
  • Is there a God?


ETCETERA.

My mother’s take on the problem is that I need to alleviate the stress of mornings by preparing my stuff in advance, i.e the night before - as she did. I long to tell her that it was easier for women in the Seventies, because, you know, they didn’t use up all their energy trying to be nice to their kids, or fretting over stupid shit like their kids’ emotional and psychological wellbeing, so they had loads more energy for chores in the evenings.

But I suppose she’s got a point.

Deep down, I know I should get the kids’ school uniforms ready the night before, and prepare their lunches, and pack their gym kits, and fill their homework bags. I know I should divide almost ALL my free time equally between finding the permission slip for my daughter’s school trip, and finding the one working biro to date and sign the permission slip, and that I should also devote at least another hour to a) rifling through all the coats in the hallway in order to find a fifty pence coin for the PTA raffle; b) writing a cheque for a million billion pounds for the single 6 by 4 school portrait from fucking Colorfoto; and c) packing a piece of fruit for playgroup (or ideally, a selection of homemade croutons or crudités because * playgroup leader rolls her eyes * they always get given fruit, and if they’re to win the Gold Standard Healthy Snack Award, they require variety, blah-dey fuckin blah.) Yes I know this, ALLRIGHT. But, the problem with this strategy of extreme forward planning is that it extends the misery of what is already a relentlessly repetitive morning routine into the previous evening. Or, in other words, IT SUCKS.

You see, once the kids have gone to bed, I don’t want to butter bread, mainly because I have already spent eight farking hours in the kitchen. Not that you could tell. Neither do I want to empty the entire contents of the recycling wheelie bin on the floor to look for the school permission slip, or dribble all over a biro until it works goddamit. I want to watch The Killing, or attend to my haemorrhoids.   

And as for larks, they’re just cocksuckers.

Good night! 

Comments

  1. I am neither a lark or an owl. I am someone who just wants to sleep ALL OF THE MOTHERFUCKING TIME.

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  2. And yes, where are all the biros? WHERE?

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  3. Lise, it sounds to me like you might be a koala bear. They sleep 22 hours at a time. On the other hand, 70% of them carry chlamydia, which I'm not suggesting you have for a second.

    PS The biros are in the same place as the sellotape, the hoover bags, the rain cover, the passports, the small Phillips screwdriver and the bastard IKEA allen keys set. Hope this helps x

    ReplyDelete
  4. I make it a policy of never doing any pre preparation whatsoever for school. I tell myself I'm teaching my children self-reliance and if the school complains I blame the kids. I do sometimes relent and rehearse their spellings in the car to school on the morning of a test and last week I remembered to pay for their school lunches. But I did that in the morning. Evenings (which start as soon as the kids hit the pillow and my lager is poured) are MINE!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Aaaargh! Paying for school lunches! I knew there was something else! Now I will have to take my horribly overdue cheque into the school secretary's LAIR. x

    ReplyDelete
  6. I am neither. I am bad tempered and tired most of the time .... hurrumppph .... yes, things were simpler in the 70's - you were put to bed, and left to cry, well I was, to the sounds of Emmerdale Farm bleating from the TV set. And I'm okay now(ish). Not too neurotic or anything - she says biting her nails to oblivion. Anyway I like my evenings for me. I get annoyed when Little A starts farting around at bedtime - refusing to let me go - I've spent all day with her, and I just want some time for the me in the evening. I can't afford to be an owl either given I get woken up early .....

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  7. I am a total owl (which is why I am doing this at 1am in the morning ) but unfortunately I still have to get out of bed at about 7am if we are to make it to school on time. I do however try to prepare stuff the night before but only because I am SOOOO crap in the morning that I just can't do it so I have been known to make the kids lunches at 1am (tonight they were done early - before midnight) - woohoo! Anything for an extra 15mins ib my bed tomorrow (even if it means an extra 30 mins before I get into it tonight! twit twooo!

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  8. Hey rollercoaster mum, if you're making your kids lunches at 1am then you are making them in the morning! See, you're more adaptable than you thought!

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  9. Ha ha, if you HE you gain it at one end but may well lose it at the other! Then again, us HEors *can* stay in our pyjamas (or in the altogether) until lunchtime and at least kinda feel as if we're still in bed :-)

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  10. OMG. People are so bloody organized I cant believe it. Every day I tell mywelf to get up earlier. Every day I ignore myself. Things would be easier, but if it's a physical impossibility - which it is - then what can we do. *Big shrug, rolls eyes, looks pitiful*

    ReplyDelete

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