I am a morning person.
By saying that maybe I’ve conjured an image of a chipper Sizzle baking muffins from scratch in an apron, the coffee already brewed and three loads of laundry washed and folded. Get that image out of your head. It’s more like: I wake up before 8am without an alarm clock but I can’t seem to interact with other humans without being pissy until at least 9am. Unless you are on line or texting me. I can do that. Just don’t be in my space.
But yeah, there might be muffins from scratch. (Maybe. Don’t get your hopes up.)
I have a morning routine. A cat, usually Dash, pounces onto my pillow then settles into a ball by my head wherein he begins to clean himself or clean me. Usually his licks are aimed at my eyelid. This is incredibly unpleasant so I tend to shoo him away. That last for about, oh, 6 seconds and then he’s back again with the “affection.” Some mornings we battle it out for 30 minutes like this. Other mornings I give in quickly because I do not enjoy the eyelid licking. AT ALL. I get up and stumble to the kitchen, poor myself a cup of ambition, yawn and stretch and try to come to life. Wait. I am not Dolly Parton. Scratch that.
I feed the cats to get them off my back. I brew tea and check my email. Sometimes I write a blog post. Sometimes I just read blogs. I check the news on line. My head almost explodes. I take a break and shower, primp, drink tea. I make breakfast and read more blogs.
Basically I have my quiet and alone time. I’ve had this for many years because since leaving my parent’s house at 21, I have lived alone for ten of those fifteen years. Some people don’t like being alone. I am not one of those people.
But herein lies the problem. How on earth am I ever going to cohabitate with my partner? The Fella and I have had many a discussion about this. We are not one of those couples that needs to be together all of the time. In actuality, on average we spend maybe 2.5 nights together out of 7. Lately given my work schedule and piss poor attitude, it’s more like one night. When I am in overwhelm, I need even more alone time. And when I require so much alone time to begin with, I practically morph into a hermit.
So what to do? Because I don’t know how to begin becoming a morning person who welcomes other people into her mornings. I don’t know how to be that girl who lingers in bed snuggling the day away with her significant other. I get up and get stuff done. I have a problem with being idle. With relaxing. With just BEING. I’ve tried working on it but I don’t think I’ve come very far.
This truth depresses me.
A lot of the time I feel like I am destined to grow old alone. Not because I can’t love or be loved in return but because I seem to be inflexible when it comes to sharing my space with people for long amounts of time. I feel abnormal. I see other people happily cohabitating and I think, “What the hell is wrong with me!?” Am I so difficult, structured and closed off that I can’t let someone in? Maybe I am Sally Albright.
Maybe I am.