Getting up at 5:30am completely blows.
Not that I’ve done it. When the alarm goes off, I hit snooze and hate life for ten minutes. Lots and lots of hate can be accomplished in ten minutes. After several rounds of this, I’m in an apocalyptic mood and unfit for society.
Not getting up at 5:30 also completely blows, as it turns out.
When one doesn’t roll out of bed right at 5:30, one cannot lolligag in the shower, put make-up on in the bathroom instead of in the car while driving, or walk the dogs until they’re normal. One cannot make a thoughtful, pretty outfit selection and hair must be left to it’s own twisted devices because will it stay up in a bun? No. No, it will not. Parking will also be a nightmare and there will inevitably be billions of rowdy sales guys in the lobby waiting to roast you when you’re late. The whole freakin’ day will be one long suck-fest.
I did not wake up at 5:30 today. 6:15 is about when my feet hit the floor. Rather than take responsibility for my actions and hurry, making a miserable morning even more miserable than necessary and inevitably forgetting something important like shaving both legs or putting on deodorant, I took my sweet time. Screw it. I was going to be late, and people were going to have to deal. My shower was lovely, the dogs enjoyed their walk, my hair is perfectly coifed, this dress is a total stunner and I smell like a fresh spring meadow. And I’m actually in a pretty good mood because I got all my hate out at 5:30-6:15. The guys waiting in the lobby this morning had brought me donuts and coffee, too. Woot!
What did we learn today?
That I need a job that is in no way dependent upon any form of punctuality. And maybe one that has humane hours, too. And that the guys in sales are mushy pushovers.
Yet another interview tonight at 7, by which point I’ll have been awake for 14 hours. Hope they’re not looking for perky, because they ain’t going to get perky.