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I’m Not An Early Riser, You’re A Lazy Sack Of Shit

In defense of the Sunrise Squad.

Sunrise of my parents’ porch in Texas.

Because having a cat and enjoying magical fantasy films aren’t enough to make me a real catch, I wake up early. I have my entire life. It was never a choice, it’s just who I am. I enjoy sleep as much as the next person, but most of that sleep happens during…you know, the night. Sun’s up, Shani’s up.

Sometimes it’s a gift, like watching the sky go from stars to sunrise over a mountain in Zion National Park. Other times it’s frustrating, like when you’re a kid sleeping over at a friends house lying flat on your back on the floor for three goddamn hours doing nothing until the household wakes up. Or when you’re a dating adult and you find yourself tiptoeing around your own goddamn kitchen lest you awaken the sleeping gentleman (spoiler, he wasn’t a gentleman) while you make yourself coffee.

Waking up early is just another human quality. It’s just something that some people do, like being left handed or preferring salad dressing on the side. What really exhausts me is that somehow I need to apologize for this entirely normal trait. Somehow I’m the one that’s wrong, the one that’s weird, the one that’s inconveniencing other people, simply by being conscious before they are.

But I’m not wrong. And I’m not weird. You are just fucking lazy.

That little dot is Venus. And I got to see her. Hope you had a nice snooze.

Wake up! My god how much sleep does one human being need? Why are you proud of how long you’re able to be an entirely unproductive member of society while simultaneously shaming me for being finished with my laundry and two posts on Medium by 10am? You’re 36, Greg, stop wearing sleeping ‘til noon like a badge of honor.

I’m somehow the weird one! That’s rich. Two days off a week and you want to spend half of both of them not even knowing they’re happening. AWESOME. I’ll be crossing things off my to-do list, you know that thing that helps me keep my life at a respectable clip, and be ready to enjoy a boozy movie at Alamo Drafthouse by 4pm, guilt-free and wearing clean jeans. Isn’t that the time you get around to brushing your teeth?

And by the way, guys, if you hear me making homemade pancakes and bacon in my kitchen, I’m not doing that to be sweet so that we can have an adorable breakfast moment together. I’m doing that so that if the noise doesn’t wake you, the scent certainly will, so that you will get your ass out of my bed and go home so I can reorganize my closet.

But it’s so much cooooollllleeeerrrrr to be a night person, Shani. Nighttime is way more fun, it’s when all the partying happens, it’s when people hang out together, you’re such a buzzkill for being an early person, geez.

Fuck you and the hangover you rode in on. We are grown human beings. If you haven’t yet learned how to have fun in broad daylight my heart breaks for you, you vampire. Keep telling yourself you’re a night owl. This morning person has a world full of possibility and options that aren’t limited by closing time.

Under Canvas campground in Zion National Park. 6am. I’d been up for 1.5 hours.

Mornings are marvelous. A quiet, majestic, optimistic time of day perfect for being the best version of yourself. It’s a time to do things that are important to you, even if those things are just a cup of coffee and listening to the sounds of not much at all outside your window. These moments are important. I’ve done some of my best, most creative work in the morning. I’ve planned trips, decorated my home, and made myself feel centered and ready for the week ahead. And you went and slept right through it.

I am an early morning person. That’s not something people get to make fun of me for anymore. It’s not something I’m going to feel bad or wrong about anymore. I’ve got plenty of that elsewhere, don’t fret. I am now a proud early person milling about my home, making my noise and my breakfast with confidence. I am no longer ashamed of my ways. I am however giving myself permission to be seriously disappointed in yours. Sweet dreams.

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