Monday, October 27, 2008

I don't wake up well.

It is a fact, and there are no two ways about it. If there was some kind of competition in being bad at this very thing, I would totally win (especially now that Claire has a baby and has to get up when it is time because there are lives at stake.)

I set my alarm for 6:20. I do this not because I need to be up by 6:20, but because I like to be able to go back to bed after my alarm goes off. I like it so much that I allow myself FORTY extra minutes to lounge underneath my fluffy comforter. Before any of you lodge protests on this point, I acknowledge that it takes me forever to get ready, but I don't have to be at work til 8:30. It doesn't take me two hours. Regardless of this fact, and regardless of the fact that I never go back to sleep, I just lay there and listen to NPR, I still manage to get up later than I should. Every day. Today, I didn't make it to work until 9.

This, I'm afraid, says something awful about my willpower. Something has to change. Perhaps I should give in and turn on the creepy wall heaters in my apartment so I won't dread venturing out from under the covers so much. (If anyone knows someone who services these creepy wall heaters, please send them to 417 Tremont. I fear that if I turn them on my apartment will burn down.)

Part of the problem lies in the fact that my being late to work here doesn't really cause any big issues. I mean, it would if I was really late, but 15-30 minutes doesn't really disrupt anyone's flow that much. I always set my own alarm and rose accordingly in middle and high school, with the exception of a couple of days where I slept through the blasted thing. Maybe if they gave demerits for tardiness at the Chattanooga Times Free Press I would feel more compelled to peel back the covers.

Last year if I was late, there would be (in addition to the apoplectic fits the assistant principal would have gone into knowing the schedule of anyone in the school was off by more than 30 seconds) eight third graders sitting unattended in a classroom, half of them stroking out because things wouldn't be going they way they normally did and no one had given them their morningwork sheet, and if the schedule wasn't written on the board yet, they probably would have lost their minds. The other half would have been yelling and screaming and beating each other up.

The girls of course would have tried to take control of the situation, because in my experience there's nothing third grade girls like more than bossing someone around (it's the crux of each main game they play - "teacher", in which one child tells the others what to do; "house", in which two children tell the others what to do; and "fort", in which whoever is there first tells the other children in school what to do.) The boys would have resisted this, and the yelling and screaming would have ramped up until another teacher came in to see what on earth was going on. Clearly, my non-presence in the classroom would have been noticed, and a large problem. It only happened a couple times. (Atlanta traffic is a disaster...)

On the opposite end of the spectrum, the last time I was truly late here (I usually allow like 15 minutes leeway) I went in to apologize to Ken. His reaction? "Oh, are you late? I didn't notice. No problem."

While this laid-back attitude makes for a very pleasant work place, it incidentally does not serve as the true incentive I apparently need to get me out of bed before 7:45. I would love to be one of those people who gets up in time to like, actually fix my hair, not dress in a rush, and stop at Panera on the way to work for a muffin and a chai tea (conversely, I would also like to be one of those people who gets paid enough so that they don't feel bad about stopping every morning for a muffin and chai tea, but that's a different story.) I did that once and it was such a pleasant way to start the day.

I would say this should be my new years resolution, but I should really try and address it before will be my late-October resolution.

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