My workplace's Native Plants Garden this morning.
You can probably imagine the opening song from the Lion King here.
When my alarm went off this morning, birds were chirping.
The sky was a pretty blue, the sun was coming up over the horizon, dogs were romping playfully in yards while their owners got ready for work.
Somewhere, I suppose, children were playing or fighting or whatever it is children do before they have to leave for school. Eating? Children eat these days, right? Is that what the kids are into now?
My husband woke up cheerfully fifteen minutes before I did, went about his business, made himself (and me! because he is so awesome and I am out of cereal) breakfast. Our cat got up with him and followed him around meowing because she hates my sleep patterns and wants me to have to wake up when everyone else does and for fifteen minutes this morning, I hated her.
My alarm went off, and birds were chirping.
The cat was chirping.
My husband was basically chirping.
I was not chirping.
I do not chirp at 6:30 in the morning and I think nothing else should, either, because morning is bad and we should make sure morning knows that it is bad.
I muttered and swore to myself and vainly kicked at things on the floor that I felt should not stand between me and whatever direction I happened to be walking at that moment, until it was time to go to work. (I did take a moment to stop groaning about morning long enough to thank Jason for breakfast, though. I'm an awesome person like that.)
I muttered about sunlight and how much I hate gorgeous mornings before I've had my coffee through my drive. NPR's news anchors insisted on sounding cheerful, which I found vaguely annoying since they should know that it's morning and morning is bad.
Even the radio is chirpy today.
I have since had my cup of coffee.
I am still not chirping.
Nothing and no one on God's green earth has the power to make a morning person out of me.
It's just not going to happen.
Some days, though, it feels like 'morning' lasts from when my alarm goes off until I go to bed at night. Today is apparently going to be one of those days.
I'm going to make more coffee with my lunch, because for some reason I feel like the Brick of Irritability hit me in the face first thing this morning and it is apparently still stuck there. All I want to do is curl up under a blanket and vainly slap my hands at anything that tries to be cheerful at me.
Instead, because I am at work and they frown on both hiding under blankets and slapping people and inanimate objects, I am going to curl up under a sweater I brought with me, drink coffee like they're startin' up the Caffeine Prohibition tomorrow, and mutter to myself about birds and their insistence on sounding happy.
Not enough coffee in the world, people.
Not enough coffee in the world.