The Spot

Where am I? What day of the week is it? What time of the year? Ugggghhhh...
[typical morning inner monologue]
Have you ever seen Four Weddings and a Funeral? You know the milionaire friend of Hugh Grant's? There's this scene at the beginning of the movie where his alarm goes off and he bounds out of bed, takes a shower, dressed and ready in half an hour.
I hate people like that.
It takes me forever to get out of bed. Part of it is that I'm a little dumber in the morning. I sometimes find myself frozen in my room, having contemplated... something [my schedule? last night's movie? upcoming holidays?] for the past 10 minutes. Plus wardrobe is a nightmare in the morning.
But I also hate mornings, in a viceral way. They are depressing, especially now, when the sun isn't up yet. What? I have to get up to this? I'd rather stay unconcious, thank you.
I wish there was such a thing as a penfield organ [see Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep] which would wake me with some kind of happy jolt.
Or maybe an alarm clock that wakes you by directly injecting caffeine into your veins.
Socially accepted addiction!
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