The unglorious morning glory.

I am so so tired, I just want to cry. I had to get up really, really early this morning. Getting up really, really early if I am not trying to catch a flight to go on some fabulous trip, is absolute torture for me. But I promised my yoga teacher to at least try once and make his life easier and teach a 06h30 class. Yes, I know all the mothers in the world are rolling their eyes at me now. So is my co-worker, Mark, for whom 06h30 is a late start. I do know I’m spoiled. I can’t help it though, my body is not designed to function on less than 8 hours of sleep and regardless of how early I put myself to bed, by body with a mind of its own, refuses to get up before at least the sun is out (In winter that is, the summer rule is obviously different). If you want to try and convince me that I’m missing much awesomeness by sleeping late – tah. Save it. I’ve heard it all and it ain’t true.
The problem is also since my body is biologically not designed to get up early (there must be scientific explanation for this somewhere!), that I sleep very uneasy when I have to. Last night I literally woke up 5 times in a panic, scared to have overslept. That wouldn’t have been the end of the world as I did ask my yoga teacher to give me a security wake up call, but it surely didn’t make for good night’s rest.
The other problem which people underestimate – I am unable to speak in the morning. I would make a good spy, being tortured for secrets, as I will not under any circumstances open my mouth before I had coffee and read my emails. That’s not really a problem for me, but apparently for others. They think me grumpy and impolite, which can be true, but in this case is not. I just can’t make out coherent sentences in the morning. I remember that one of my friends was shocked to discover my morning silence once she moved in with me. It took her several failed attempts to get me talking, me biting her head off with my still closed mouth, and finally a conversation in the evening with a bottle of wine for her to understand – it’s not you, it’s me, luv! Same phenomenon which guys who have just come home from work – silence, more silence, a beer and then the wife can ask questions. That’s my morning - exchange beer for coffee. Or bubbly.
When forced to speak, I tend to mumble and stumble and this morning even mixed up thumbs with palms, which made look people funny in their postures. But apparently no one noticed but me. Everyone seemed happy, which in return made me happy. Ergo – teaching yoga in the morning leads to be being very tired, but happy, which as it turns out is not the worst combination to start a day. Though now, call me a diva, but I’m still tired, which makes me feel like the world is all against me. I decided with the left over happiness and good will from earlier to look on the bright side: According to my inner clock it’s already cocktail hour. Getting up earlier means you get to drink earlier too. Will write it on a post-it and put on my alarm as a mantra for next time.

P.S. The guy at the video store asked me the other day if I knew was ‘morning glory’ meant. He was referring to the movie ‘Morning Glory’, but somehow I still felt that was a tad bit inappropriate.