Morning People

Dress: Thrifted / Button-up, Scarf: Consigned at Periwinkle / Shoes, Belt: Gabes

I thought this outfit perfectly represented perkiness, the morning absence of which has been on my mind lately.

See, I really wish I were a morning person. You know that psalm--“early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise?" Well, who doesn't want to be healthy, wealthy, and wise? So I went through a phase when I advertised that I was, actually, one of those perfect “morning persons." Then I tried my mightiest to be one. Turns out, that whole "make it happen" bit doesn't always work.

I can be a bit of a hardcore perfectionist. How's that for a self-denial oxymoron? My childhood nickname may possibly have been Miss Perfect. { It was.} And perfect people are morning people, right? So I needed to be a morning person.

I pictured myself bouncing out of bed like Cameron Diaz in the first Charlie’s Angels movie { I even got an i-Pod alarm to facilitate this }, tidying my bed, whipping up a super cute outfit and hairdo, then dancing my way to the kitchen for a breakfast of oatmeal, French toast, or pancakes with fresh berries and OJ while listening to NPR or checking the news. I’d take the Hound on a brisk walk then have spare time to catch up on housework or divulge in web surfing before heading to work. Doesn’t that sound lovely?

But I wasn't fooling anyone. Try as I might, I never succeeded.

Not even a little, tiny bit.

I still burn with shame when I hear that others read their blog rolls in the morning as they eat breakfast. Real people actually have that kind of luxury time in the morning? Perhaps I could, too, if I didn't hit snooze until the last possible minute before stumbling out of bed, half awake...

Then I brush my teeth and stumble through the kitchen in my pjs and out the door with the Hound, just long enough for her to do her business. I feed her and again traverse the kitchen, back to the bedroom, where I stare at my closet with no clue what to wear because I’m still too sleepy to care.  I may even crawl back under the covers until just a few minutes before I absolutely must leave. I rarely do anything interesting to my hair or tidy my room, and I never leave time for breakfast, news, Cameron Diaz-esque dancing, or web surfing. Still quite grouchy, I leave for the day. 

My “I’m a morning person” phases ran intermittently through high school and college. Eventually, I learned that if I wanted to look nice, I needed to shower and lay out my outfit the night before, to minimize thinking required in the morning. I doesn't seem to matter how early I go to bed; when I wake, I just can’t muster the inspiration to care. Exhibit A: my hair in the photo above. And the eh smirk that goes with it. Too bad I can't lay out my hair the night before, too.

So I guess you could say that I’m going to have a jolly time when motherhood rolls around. I say bring it. Maybe it will get my bum into gear and I’ll become that kick-a morning person I’ve always aspired to be.

Meanwhile, I hope all you morning people out there appreciate your early hour perkiness! I’m mad jealous.

P.S. Happy May Day! It's finally May! It's still a bit snappishly cold today, but we've got flowers and blossoms all over. This apple tree behind me is set to burst into bloom any day now. Yay for real florals!

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This post linked up to the Pleated Poppy's What I Wore party!
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