Mornings are horrible. That may seem like an exaggeration, but really, it’s how I feel.
I have never been a morning person. In fact, when I was younger I remember my parents trying to prod me out of bed. Once I made it out of bed, there was usually a 10-15 minute time frame in which I curled up on the floor and pulled a blanket over my head. My dad used to call me “the little turtle.”
I can safely say that nothing has changed except for laying on the floor with a blanket over my head. I have two alarm clocks alerting me to get out of bed. I hit the snooze button every five minutes on both alarm clocks for about an hour—my husband loves this.
Once I am up, if coffee isn’t readily available, there is going to be trouble. We have our coffee maker set up to brew before I am even thinking about getting out of bed.
If you are wondering why I am rambling on about mornings and how much I hate them, well, that was what I was thinking about as I “fooled” around with some words. I have been studying the poetry section from The Portable MFA in Creative Writing and this is what stirred my emotions today.
I Hate Morning Haiku
A cloud of covers—
Stay hidden until the end.
Bitter, black coffee.
And remember, the mantra for the week: “Don’t get it right, get it written.”
By the way, thanks for reading my blog even though I have had a few proofreading mistakes that would embarrass my 4th grade English teacher. Sorry Mrs. Eisinger, I’ll try to be more careful.
Are you a morning person or a night owl?