Mornings

I am not a morning person. Nor have I ever been a morning person. I highly doubt, that at nearly 30, I will become a morning person after so many years of not being one. Rob, on the other hand, is a morning person. He likes to describe my waking in the morning as waking Hades from thousands of years of slumber, complete with gravelly voice and equally frightening morning breath. I, no doubt, believe him. I've seen how I look in the morning.

However, it's not like I want to wake up as I do. I've always harboured secret desires to be a morning person. To be like those women in commercials, seen walking through sunny markets at the crack of dawn, drinking coffee and buying fresh fruit while snapping photos of interesting sights. I'd like to be like that. But I made a realization that, to be one of those women, I need to be able to get out of bed in the morning. Number one, I have the best, most comfortable bed on the planet. King size pillow-top, complete with sateen 400 thread-count sheets and a micro-suede duvet. It's really hard to get out of that sucker in the mornings. Number two, which is the sadder of the two, there isn't much for me to get up for. In all honesty, my job is just "okay". Not anything I'm ready and excited to get to in the mornings. It's usually gray and dark here in the early day, so when I wake, it still feels like it's 4 in the morning. And, quite frankly, I'm not excited about ANYTHING. It's awful, to feel that one little decision would be the end-all be-all of quick fixes. I keep thinking "if Rob just gets a job... if he can get us out of here, then...." but it's true. Because once we are out of here, things can begin happening. Then I can be one of those women. Someone who is excited to get out of bed in the morning. Because I desperately long to...