So, an addendum to my previous post. This night schedule certainly does have me screwed up. But I can no longer underestimate the curative power of a 4AM power nap and some quality social time at sunrise with some of my early-rising but otherwise respectable friends at the cafe. I do feel a bit better.
Now. Confession time.
I confess that I actually do like the morning. I adore it, actually. I just abhor waking up for it. There’s a beautiful light that comes with the dawn, and once that sun crests over the treeline, it shines beautifully over the detritus and scenery of last night. It’s like the somber and sober scenes at the end of “Before Sunrise” — there’s a blue cast over everything as all the chairs stand stacked, the courtyards are empty, the light strands are turned off, the balconies are illuminated in sideways orange as the hustle of the morning traffic builds below. It’s a stony transition between promises. That’s what I like about it.
And then realtime starts to happen, and we have to keep moving along to fulfill our promises and work for more. That’s the hard part. When I’m still wearing off the psychic privacy of dreams and re-erecting my mental wall against the world, it’s too much to handle. Mornings are beautiful, but they should never be that early.