Good morning! We hear that statement a lot, and it means that we’re telling folks that we hope they’re day is off to a great start. For those of you like me, it’s more of a mumbled greeting that sometimes comes out sounding like “What’s so good about it?” Yep, I’m a non-morning person.
I totally agree with Garfield the cat who is quoted as saying, “I could enjoy the day a lot more if it started later.”
To me, about the only thing good about each morning I see is when it confirms that I’m still on this side of the dirt. I’ll rise, but you can forget about me doing any shining!
I hear folks talking about how they get up before daylight each morning, sometimes as early as 5. I’ve got news for y’all — if I’m up that early, the house better be on fire! Nothing against the early birds, mind you, as somebody has to be up and about to get the world started each day. I’m just glad it ain’t me.
Before I retired, I dreaded the sound of the alarm clock each morning at 6:30. I had to learn a trick to break myself from simply hitting the snooze button every day, and that was to position the clock away from the bed, so I had to get up and walk over to it to shut it off. By then, I was on my feet, so I figured that I might as well just stay up. Had I been a rich man, I’d have bought a truckload of alarm clocks, just so I could bash one to death each morning with a baseball bat that I’d pick up on my way over to the clock.
Dragging out of bed that early was deplorable, but come Saturday and Sunday, when I could be sleeping late, my baby blues would pop right open, bright and early. The key word is “bright” here, as the blinding sun would be forcing its way through my bedroom window every day. I tend to agree with the bumper sticker that reads “I’m up and dressed. What else do you want?”
What are those people who own roosters thinking? If you live on a farm and have to be up that early to milk cows, gather eggs, slop the hogs, feed the horses, that’s all well and good. But if that’s not your routine, why have a crowing alarm clock hollering for you to get up every day? And since they don’t have calendars, they’ll be screaming for you to wake up on your days off. If that were me, there’d be a lot of roosters winding up in my dumplings.
To me, the break of day is just that. You know that song “Morning Has Broken?” Along with that the silence is broken and the crack of dawn is heard much too loud for night owls like me. If you’re wondering, for the record, I’m not one to sleep in, and am usually up by 7 each day, even in retirement.
So if you encounter me early in the day and greet me with a cheerful “Good morning,” you’ll hear me mumble back what sounds like “Morning.” But what I’ll really be saying is, “Mourning,” because I’m mourning the fact that I’m awake already.
You early birds can have all the worms!