Have I mentioned that I'm not much of a morning person? There's nothing I hate more than getting up early, and since I have to get up early for work every day, my days don't usually start well. This morning I slept soundly through my alarm for 45 minutes. I'm not kidding. It's set to go off a little before 6am, so that I'm up a little after 6am. I never hear it the first time it goes off with that terrible, incessant beeping, but I'll usually start to stir after 20 minutes or so. This morning when I opened my eyes and looked at the clock it was 6:40. Dammit.
I did my very best to get ready for work in 30 minutes. I have learned over the years that lots of things can be skipped - like doing my hair - when running late. Still, I didn't get to work until about 7:50 when I'm supposed to be here at 7:30. How did a non-morning person get a 7:30 shift? Someone hates my guts. Anyway, when I got here I was told that one of the General Authority secretaries had been looking for me because she needed an electronic signature for her General Authority. I don't have one, and so couldn't have helped her if I'd been on time, but still the fact that she was looking for me brought real attention to how late I was. It's a little embarrassing.
The COB is packed full of morning people. Those who naturally wake up before 5am, immediately start whistling a happy tune, and smile all the way to work. When I get here, they greet me with a heart felt "Good morning!", which only makes me angry and want to kick them good and hard in the shin. A dose of reality would bring them back down to earth. I've never said the words "good morning" in my life. It would feel like such a lie.
Folks here can't understand why it would be difficult for anyone to be in before 8am. In fact, one of my coworkers starts running around the floor looking for people at about 7:45, wondering where everyone is. Like it's normal to be at work so early. Like there's no excuse for being any later. His incomprehension of a work schedule that starts after 7am is incomprehensible to me. If I had my way (and someday I will, mark my words) I would never leave the house before 10.
Until then I'll have to set my alarm for 5:30 with the hope that I'll open my eyes by 6:15, and then mentally prepare myself for the blindingly bright cheeriness at the office. I'll do my best to hide a sneering look, and to sit quietly at my desk. It's better not to talk to anyone when you feel so much like crying.