As much as you’ll catch me on IM in the dead of the night have deep conversations about emotion in high relief and how The David is really looking in two different directions, i am honestly a morning person. The only problem is, you have to find a way to get me out of the bed, into the shower, and then into clean clothes. Then, and only then, am i truly a morning person. Today Kim and I hit the floor of the sparkling new Superfresh down on Deleware avenue not a second later than 8:15, and we were giggling right down every aisle. Somehow i wound up spending $130 on groceries, which makes sense because i’m cooking a huge italian meal tonight and i decided i should start eating breakfast, but it made me feel like much more of a grownup. Not just because i spent all of that on groceries, but i never once stopped to think “if i just starve myself twice as long as these would last i could have a new guitar.” Somehow valuing the experience of trying to operate a self-checkout lane and knowing i could afford whatever the food came to is worth more (i know, it’s blaspheme) than a new guitar (or a second night of Madonna tix…).
What happened afterwards was the real proof i’m a morning person: i stormed into the apartment with groceries and announced to poor tortured Matt that i was defrosting the refridgerator by hand and that he should put on some good music. And, four solid inches of ice later (don’t even ask…) we have a clean empty refridgerator and lots of new groceries and it’s full-on spring and i just feel like someone flicked the little on switch that’s hidden behind my right earlobe and suddenly now i’m all powered up and ready to appreciate something.
All of that in exchange for three hours of sleep. But, it’s not really how much you sleep, it’s when you wake up.