Morning's Not For Me

I wake up like a person who needs to know how to do everything again for the first time. Like walk. I stagger and weave in the morning as I make my way to the crapper. My brain doesn't work and usually actually hurts. My eyes won't focus. I've tried to write a brief answer to a comment on the blog before I've been up at least an hour and my fingers just do not work. Like little clubs with no memory of the keyboard. I hate mornings. I always have.

My mother claimed I was born a night person. She was always a morning person, so this was just one more way in which I was defective. But her assertion that fresh out of the womb I wanted to sleep in and stay up all night rings very true. I've had jobs that required 5 AM call times. The best thing for me to do was sleep most of the prior day, then just wake up in the late evening and then my call time would be at a reasonable hour, still part of the night.

I was an assistant to the fashion coordinator at Nordstrom in Salt Lake and Nordstrom likes to have very early morning meetings for management. I can remember driving down Emigration canyon road at 6 AM and not gaining consciousness until pulling into the parking garage. I call this sleep driving. I was completely on autopilot during all those early morning drives down that narrow, steep, winding canyon road. I know I drove the road asleep and speeding.

Now some jackass is calling me every morning at 8:01. This would be great if I really needed a wake-up call, but it's torture since I stayed up till 3 Am the night before. That is my normal bedtime. I know it's wrong to the rest of you that I have the luxury of living my life according to my own biorhythms, but that's the only good thing about being disabled--that and Medicare coverage.

So today I plan to make some phone calls. I will reregister with the Do Not Call Registry. That won't stop this asshole, but it's a start. I'm getting too many solicitations everyday and it isn't all that much fun fucking with the poor schmucks who need that work. The Diabetes Association has stopped calling me, but the person who is calling me is, I'm pretty sure the person who first called me for the Diabetes Association and got the angry bear that is me in the morning and decided it was fun to wake me up. Now I'll start disconnecting my phone at night.