Becoming a Morning Person

As many of you know, I don't really do mornings.  Seriously.  The 2 weeks of the summer where I had to get up at 6:00 to pick raspberries (actually I had to get up earlier, we had to "be in the bush by 6") were pretty much torture.  AND some years, we'd have such a great crop that it would go over 2 weeks.  I tell you what, getting up at the I-can-barely-see-it's-still-so-dark crack of dawn to go stand in a wet bush (stupid dew) gingerly picking red berries, and keeping your eyes out for the multitude of spiders, leaf bugs, and grasshoppers that were just waiting to attack you, thus causing you to jump and spill some of your berries, that then caused a panic, because if Dad saw them, you were surely in trouble, and then you REALLY wished you were still in bed and this nightmare was just a dream, was not something this bucketeer enjoyed.

L5-L7 can all tell you stories of me getting up for scriptures, not really paying attention while we were reading (but I got very good at my 6 times tables) and then going back to bed, and not surfacing until after 8.  Yes, you heard me, after 8.  That was some major sleeping in at my house growing up.  My Dad was a really big fan of the whole "early to bed, early to rise" thing.

How I got through 3 years of early morning drama rehearsals, I will never be able to tell you.  But I did, armed with pop tarts, or sometimes a Popsicle for breakfast, I would walk on stage and pretty much dance in my sleep.  I wasn't popin' but my breakfast was!  (I know, super lame joke, it just had to be made)

I remember one morning during my short stay at the MTC, of my alarm going off.  I rolled over to press snooze, it was 6:10 AM.  I wasn't thinking about how great it was to be a missionary, and that I got to preach the Gospel.  I was thinking, "I have to wake up this early every day for the next 18 months.  WHY did I do this to myself!"  I then started to wonder if it was really worth it.  And it was, but that morning, I wanted to become apostate and run far, far away!

Fast forward a few years to last summer.  Hod and I both had a not fun job that paid well.  I was on a rotating shift where every 3 weeks it was my turn to be to work by 6:30.  Pretty lame.  And then it happened, Hod got moved to the early shift.  Now, Hod, bless his super attractive heart, is not a morning person.  I personally believe that some little gremlin comes in the night and super glues his back to the bed.  That is how hard it is for him to get up.  As a result, when Hod had to be to work at 6:30, I had to wake up at 6:10 and call him to get him out of bed.  Roughly translated, this means I never got to sleep in.  But I did it, for Hod.

And it set a pattern.  Now, every morning, my alarm goes off, so I can wake my dear husband up, to help him get the last of his homework done, or to get him to work on time.  (As a side note, I am SO glad that I didn't let him take a 7:30 class.  I would have wanted to spit on him every morning.)

I have friends that get up during the 6:00 hour every day.  I don't know how they do it.  7:30 is being our earliest.  Every day, the alarm goes off and I have to shove Hod out of bed.  Every day it is a struggle.  "Just 10 more minutes?   Just 2 more minutes?"

I'm not really a morning person yet.  I feel like I'm just acting.  And so it goes.  Every day.  Probably for the rest of my life.  I know once I have kids I'll be lucky to get to 7:30.  Maybe someday I will actually make the transition to the ever elusive "Morning Person".

Blind Dates

Dear Friends,

So, life is improving slowly.  I know my last post was severely lacking in warm fuzzies.  I wanted something more enjoyable up, so here I am.  But my life is lame right now.  As a result, you get a story from the past.  CRH will recognize this story, as she was there for it.

This one time, I lived in TX.  CRH was dating the Texan, and we had great plans to go on a double date to the local outdoor symphony.  It was free, and who doesn't love the symphony?  I didn't really know any great boys to ask out, so the Texan was given the job to set me up.  Good gravy, did he pick a winner. (Please read that last sentence with extreme sarcasm.)

CRH and I arrived at the Texan's house and I was able to meet my date.  Let's call him Narc.  That is going to be short for Narcissistic.  Seriously.  Narc was SO stuck on himself!  He spent the entire evening talking about himself.  And he has such a lame sense of humor.  As in, he told dead baby jokes.  I considered giving you an example of a dead baby joke, but really, they are so horrid!  I can't bring myself to share them with you.  But let me give you another example of his humor.  He once stopped a little girl and said, "Hello.  I'm a cannibal.  Do you know what a cannibal is?"  And I managed to stop him from his great plan of telling a random girl that he was going to kidnap her.  Wow.  He's high quality.  The concert may have been great.  I'm not sure.  Narc was too busy talking about himself, so I couldn't pay attention.  Lame!

After the concert, we went back to the Texan's house.  By this point I was SO done with Narc, and he had managed to really tick of CRH.  He was laying on the Texan's love sac, and when he moved, I decided to take his spot, cause he was lame.  So I did.  He then proceeded to run and jump at me.  I really thought I was going to die.  My life flashed before my eyes as Narc came flying at me.  I had no idea that death would be so annoying.  I ended up laying on the love sac with Narc.  We weren't touching.  No worries there.  I wanted to leave, but I couldn't, because I was stuck against the couch.  Narc had to move first.  Finally it came time to leave and Narc moved so I could get up.  Only, instead of letting me up, he proceeded to fold the love sac in half, squishing me in the middle.  He sat on top and then announced his joy in making a "Paily taco".  I sat there, inside the love sac, trying to get my head out far enough that I could breathe, as Narc reached down and started tickling my feet.  Really??  WHO ARE YOU???   I don't know you!  Why are you touching my feet?

I eventually got out.  (As evidenced by the fact that I am alive to type this)  I'm not sure what I did to offend the Texan, so he would set me up with someone like Narc.  Texan, if you read this, you SO owe me!

That was pretty much my last encounter with Narc.  Well, except for the time he heard something that I said, and took it out of context so it was completely awkward.  (Yes, I did say, "I'm cute, you know you want me" but that's not what I meant!)

I'm not really anti-blind dates.  They do make some very great stories!