One of the worst things I can imagine happening to me is waking up later than everybody else and emerging from my bedroom to find the rest of the party gathered and ready for the day in the living room. There’s something about not just rising later than the rest of your fellows, but having that late rising remarked upon, that makes me murderously defensive, like an Edgar Allan Poe narrator.
I can do so many of the major things my mother considers signs of moral failure (being trans, having non-procreative non-married sex, not attending church, voting Democrat) with no qualms at all, having long ago wrestled my way out of any significant self-consciousness about them.
When it comes to MINOR things my mother considers character flaws (sleeping in, taking a lunch break, relaxing while there are dirty dishes in the sink, leaving the house without a bra on, not sending thank-you notes) I bring what's best described as caffeinated and furious Chihuahua energy to any interaction that even hints at acknowledging my choices.
As a kid I had this book called "Walter the Lazy Mouse" in which the title character sleeps SO late that his family forgets his existence and moves away. Which I suppose would solve the problem of social awkwardness that you describe...
Also useful is the famous Latin phrase: "Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius" - loosely translated as: Kill them all, let God sort them out.
This is my life at work. Officially, I'm allowed to start work at 10 am because "this is a flexible workplace." Unofficially, my colleagues resent my schedule.
Which makes no logical sense, since they don't want this schedule themselves. They like to start work early and leave at some crazy hour like 3 pm. These are people who rise with the very birds simply because they "enjoy the morning." They're up at 5 am and in the office by 7 am, all perkiness and smiles.
They don't want this schedule for themselves, they just don't want me to have it.
The whole opening riff on "I don't know if you're anything like me" had me laughing out loud, (ibut n the library, so it wasn't entirely a good thing.) And how does the Chatner pull off being so recklessly discursive and then the next minute lazer-focused on the tiny hurt described so perfectly. Also, thanks for the usefull list of possible responses when I next wake up late in a group, have jotted them down for future use.
When facing the "Morning, sleepyhead!" comments, my response is a breakdown not unlike Captain Queeg from The Caine Mutiny: "Ah, but the strawberries, that's... that's where I had them, they laughed at me and made jokes!"
Wow. I haven't read the Caine Mutiny, so I don't get this, but I LOVE it, for a response to this particular instance of ribbing by "friends", but also for milllions of possible other instances! Thank you! Have jotted down for future use. (Also made note to self: Read Caine Mutiny , esp. re: strawberry quote )
This is me even with my own family, and there are only three of us. If they're up before me, one of them really should have the decency to go back to bed until I'm up.
One of the funniest things I've read in a good while.
Two things:
1. How did the Thurenburg-inspired "You have stolen my dreams!" not make the cut
2. I love the seriousness of this article coupled with the lightness of the situation, up to and including how "staying up late" is libelous.
Absolutely fantastic and I loved every bit of it. At first I couldn't tell if I was reading some substack navel gazing or pure comedic genius. Maybe I'm still not sure.
No but WHY. Why do people do this. Why is it always so funny that we are not morning people? And not like "haha good joke" funny, but funny like we have done something so strange that we must be trying to do a metaverse jump in Everything Everywhere All At Once?
I can do so many of the major things my mother considers signs of moral failure (being trans, having non-procreative non-married sex, not attending church, voting Democrat) with no qualms at all, having long ago wrestled my way out of any significant self-consciousness about them.
When it comes to MINOR things my mother considers character flaws (sleeping in, taking a lunch break, relaxing while there are dirty dishes in the sink, leaving the house without a bra on, not sending thank-you notes) I bring what's best described as caffeinated and furious Chihuahua energy to any interaction that even hints at acknowledging my choices.
As a kid I had this book called "Walter the Lazy Mouse" in which the title character sleeps SO late that his family forgets his existence and moves away. Which I suppose would solve the problem of social awkwardness that you describe...
Also useful is the famous Latin phrase: "Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius" - loosely translated as: Kill them all, let God sort them out.
This is my life at work. Officially, I'm allowed to start work at 10 am because "this is a flexible workplace." Unofficially, my colleagues resent my schedule.
Which makes no logical sense, since they don't want this schedule themselves. They like to start work early and leave at some crazy hour like 3 pm. These are people who rise with the very birds simply because they "enjoy the morning." They're up at 5 am and in the office by 7 am, all perkiness and smiles.
They don't want this schedule for themselves, they just don't want me to have it.
It, as the kids say, me
The whole opening riff on "I don't know if you're anything like me" had me laughing out loud, (ibut n the library, so it wasn't entirely a good thing.) And how does the Chatner pull off being so recklessly discursive and then the next minute lazer-focused on the tiny hurt described so perfectly. Also, thanks for the usefull list of possible responses when I next wake up late in a group, have jotted them down for future use.
Thank you!!! I’m always last to rise. Some of us just need more beauty sleep.
When in a large group it is empirically best to be the second person up (unless the first person is beastly).
When facing the "Morning, sleepyhead!" comments, my response is a breakdown not unlike Captain Queeg from The Caine Mutiny: "Ah, but the strawberries, that's... that's where I had them, they laughed at me and made jokes!"
Wow. I haven't read the Caine Mutiny, so I don't get this, but I LOVE it, for a response to this particular instance of ribbing by "friends", but also for milllions of possible other instances! Thank you! Have jotted down for future use. (Also made note to self: Read Caine Mutiny , esp. re: strawberry quote )
It's actually a reference to a movie from 1954, but hey thanks!
This is me even with my own family, and there are only three of us. If they're up before me, one of them really should have the decency to go back to bed until I'm up.
One of the funniest things I've read in a good while.
Two things:
1. How did the Thurenburg-inspired "You have stolen my dreams!" not make the cut
2. I love the seriousness of this article coupled with the lightness of the situation, up to and including how "staying up late" is libelous.
Absolutely fantastic and I loved every bit of it. At first I couldn't tell if I was reading some substack navel gazing or pure comedic genius. Maybe I'm still not sure.
I gUFFAWED
I identify with this so much I can't laugh!
Yes. You nailed this; very funny writing.
No but WHY. Why do people do this. Why is it always so funny that we are not morning people? And not like "haha good joke" funny, but funny like we have done something so strange that we must be trying to do a metaverse jump in Everything Everywhere All At Once?