I've never been a morning person. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a horrible grumbling monster in the morning...just not my happiest moment of the day. If I'm getting up in the middle of the night/wee hours of the morning to go on some sort of vacation romp to a fantastic place...I'll be all the morning person you need...but otherwise...no way jose. It's not even that I really love sleep all that much. I definitely notice when I haven't had enough of it or even when I have too much...but gone are the weekend days of sleeping in till noon...I don't even have any kids yet...I just don't sleep those extra hours anymore (even if I tried).
I'm beginning to think that one of my unhealthy habits is the culprit for my not-so-glorious-in-the-morning tude. I press the snooze. Not only do I press the snooze...I hit it, slap it, poke it, press down with my entire hand (thinking that may create a few extra moments of sleepytime) and have even moved my alarm clock in an effort to stop all of this nonsense. I read somewhere that if you are the type to hit snooze multiple times in the morning, you could try and move your clock somewhere else in the room so that you actually have to get up out of bed and walk to it to turn off the alarm. I did this. I plugged in my alarm clock all the way across the room on my windowsill. Know what I do every morning before work? Hear my alarm, get up from bed, walk 5 or 6 steps over to window, hit snooze, walk 5 or 6 steps back to bed, climb in...commence snoozeing. Not only is it bad enough I do this at all...I do it 4 or 5 times. Thus, delaying the enevitable frustration of getting up according to an unpleasant alarm blaring in the morning.
Most likely all of this snooze button pushing and strolling back to bed does little to nothing for my sleep. It may even make my morning monger attitude worse than it has to be but damnit...I love that snooze. I think whomever invented alarm clocks should renig that creation. Isn't that what it does anyway? Lessen the obvious outcomes blow? Why start the pain and anger any earlier than it has to be started? It's like when you have a vicious Bandaide to remove. You look at it, go for it...then you rip a teensy corner off, only to push it back down and re-stick it to the already unpleasant patch of skin it's clinging to? No Way! You rip that entire little bastard off in one quick motion. You don't delay what you know will suck in the first place! Why do we hit snooze?! Or how bout another example...getting a shot at the doctors office...do you want the nurse to take the needle out, poke your skin a little, stop...poke your skin and pierce your skin...and stop...and then finally come back for more and jab that sucker into your arm or leg or ass? NO!
Just take the alarm for what it is and get the hell out of bed (at least that's my new goal. I swear I'll start tomorrow morning)...
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
L is for the way you...
I LOVE love. Anywhichway you take it, give it, feel it, steal it, spread it, share it or talk about it...I'm into it. Love reading books about love, seeing movies about love, feeling it and seeing others feel it. Why you may ask? Who the hell knows.
I myself have not been lucky in love (yet). A series of failed, dissolved, disintegrated or completely annihilated relationships to many people may leave them jaded and bitter in their group of dwindling (or all together non-existent like mine) single friends in their life...but for me, somehow, I still hold onto the idea of the fairytale love...time-stopping, earth-standing-still sort of moments where your whole heart and soul are so wrapped up in another human being...it still exists, right?
I love to write letters. I love to receive letters...is there any man on this earth that really would enjoy the romance of writing me a (goddamn) letter every once and awhile? Is it too much to ask for a little lead poisoning by way of pencil to paper use in order to make me happy? I mean seriously...I don't ask for much...just a little paper...or a napkin...or maybe that receipt crumbled up in your back pocket...write some sweet crap down and mail it to me...
Ok, so I do have my bitter days. The ones where the world wide web and dwindling glory of social networking sites show me that even the most delusional, mean or otherwise insane people have found fantastical love in some shape or size and are happy as a motherf*cking clam...you know, just a little bitter. I can waste the occasional weekend night being sappy and sad and lonely with me,myself and I, a good cocktail and a realllllly sappy love story chick-flick, but you know what? I'm full of hope for my own love to come along, and you know what people? When it does, it's gonna be (to use a really unnecessarily brought-into-tween-slang-for-over-dramatization-of-mundane-moments-word) EPIC. That's right b*tches. Read this and weep (or read the next blog where I talked about how I sobbed after writing this one). But for realz, on the down-low or the uptown downtown I'm gonna take you down to Chinatown kinda foshizzle...it's out there...and that shit is just waiting for me.
I myself have not been lucky in love (yet). A series of failed, dissolved, disintegrated or completely annihilated relationships to many people may leave them jaded and bitter in their group of dwindling (or all together non-existent like mine) single friends in their life...but for me, somehow, I still hold onto the idea of the fairytale love...time-stopping, earth-standing-still sort of moments where your whole heart and soul are so wrapped up in another human being...it still exists, right?
I love to write letters. I love to receive letters...is there any man on this earth that really would enjoy the romance of writing me a (goddamn) letter every once and awhile? Is it too much to ask for a little lead poisoning by way of pencil to paper use in order to make me happy? I mean seriously...I don't ask for much...just a little paper...or a napkin...or maybe that receipt crumbled up in your back pocket...write some sweet crap down and mail it to me...
Ok, so I do have my bitter days. The ones where the world wide web and dwindling glory of social networking sites show me that even the most delusional, mean or otherwise insane people have found fantastical love in some shape or size and are happy as a motherf*cking clam...you know, just a little bitter. I can waste the occasional weekend night being sappy and sad and lonely with me,myself and I, a good cocktail and a realllllly sappy love story chick-flick, but you know what? I'm full of hope for my own love to come along, and you know what people? When it does, it's gonna be (to use a really unnecessarily brought-into-tween-slang-for-over-dramatization-of-mundane-moments-word) EPIC. That's right b*tches. Read this and weep (or read the next blog where I talked about how I sobbed after writing this one). But for realz, on the down-low or the uptown downtown I'm gonna take you down to Chinatown kinda foshizzle...it's out there...and that shit is just waiting for me.
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