Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

Welcome back to the blog. It's just not the same without you here.

It seems as though the sun rose ferociously early this morning. I broke out in a lash of disgust and anguish for my tormentingly sweltering covers as I felt Mr. Sun's fiery rays bearing down on me in my state of sleep. I glared out the window with one eye partially open, my right cheek still smashed into my pillow, "I bet you think you're funny, don't you, sun?!" I said with reluctance. He just beamed. Being the morning person that I am, I followed suit and awoke at the crack of dawn: a stifling 10:30am. I say if people were meant to pop out of bed, we'd all sleep in toasters. "Morning People" as they are lovingly referred to, only comprise approximately 10% of Earth's population...that's 1 out of every 10 people...one of whom, lives with me. I'm not convinced they are a necessary breed...perhaps only so there is someone to tell me 'good morning' as I awake...but tell me 'good morning' before I awake and you're in for a rude awakening... mine. Years ago while traveling, I was once greeted with a 6:00am 'Carpe Diem!'. Well, 'Carpe Diem' at 6:00am does not make me want to seize the day. It makes me want to slap a dead poet.

There is a story of a Chinese man who had himself wakened three times every morning simply for the pleasure of being told it was not yet time to get up. I don't know who or where you are sir, but brav-o. There is no greater sigh of relief after throwing yourself awake to the possible horror of oversleeping, only to discover the clock reads a heavenly 2:00am... we've all been there at some point.

The only time I am fine with dawn, is if I'm still up. Benjamin Franklin said, "Early morning hath gold in its mouth." ...Gold? More like bad breath.

Nonetheless by the grace of God, I miraculously found my way out of my bedroom and into the hallway. I grabbed the fluffiest towel I could find (the fluffier, the better...naturally) and stumbled into the bathroom for my daily cleansing ritual, known to some as a "shower". I ran the water to my desired temperature, and the ritual began. I squeezed the shampoo bottle (attention shampoo/conditioner manufacturers: If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: If you want me to lather, rinse, and in fact repeat, make the bottle out of a substance that ensures maximum grip. A lathered hand is a slippery hand), and began step one as directed. As my Garnier Fructis Fortifying Shampoo began to work its magic (you're welcome, Garnier), I reasoned that I could tolerate the water temperature to be kicked up a few notches. I clumsily decided that the perfect moment to adjust the knob was the exact moment that the sudsy wash oozed into my eyes and partially blinded me. I blindly reached for the knob and turned it. In a flash, I turned from contently humming "zip-a-dee-doo-dah" to a unbelievably frigid state of bodily shock in an icy rain. Almost instantaneously, I shrieked from the depths of my lungs and leaped out of the shower in a way that would have put Kermit to an embarrassing shame. After regaining my breath, my composure, and my normal flesh color, I--quite thoroughly alert now, mind you--returned the knob up to its originally intended degree and brought my cleansing session to a close. I swaddled myself in the fluffy towel, shuffled back to my room, and believe it or not, found something to wear. I grabbed my school bag, hopped in the car, rolled the window down, cranked up the radio (mostly so I look cool while driving), stopped at the holy temple called Pita Pit, and cruised off to school.

Today is Tuesday--SEM lab day: I sit in a dark room and recalculate mineral equations based on x-ray microanalyses graphs from the energy dispersive spectrometer for my sample. In layman's terms: I squint at the computer for a few hours. Each day I comprehend a little bit more, and that is sufficient for me...one thing at a time. I will continue to take life one day at a time until I don't have any more days left...or until I run out of mornings, whichever comes first.

Peace out,
H