Mornings are bomb.

There's this episode of How I Met Your Mother that discuss something called the The Mermaid Theory (Season 6: Episode 11, for those of you watching on Netflix at home). The theory states that back in the day, sailors used to go so long without female contact, that they'd start picturing manatees as mermaids while on the open seas. As it turns out, the male psyche hasn't evolved much since then, so this continues to happen in present day. Only, instead of sailors, it's the average joe who works a job where he doesn't get much female interaction, except for maybe his secretary. He's not attracted to his secretary for a variety of reasons; ultimately though, she's probably just not his type. She's a manatee. However, after so much time passes, and he's spent 40 hours a week around this woman for month after month, year after year, eventually she starts becoming more and more attractive. She turns into a mermaid. I may not be explaining this well enough, but it (surprisingly) makes sense the way the screenwriters broke it down on the show.

The point of that anecdote is to explain my feelings about mornings.

For years... years, mornings have annoyed me. Mornings were not my type. Morning time was a manatee. The only good thing about mornings was getting to empty my bladder. If I had my way, that moment of relief would always be followed by a trip back to my bed, but no. When you have responsibilities, that can't happen. 

I've always needed a little extra motivation in the morning, and I'm not sure why. My mom is a morning person. My dad was a morning person. Even my brothers currently work jobs where they have to be there before the sun rises, and they chose that schedule! WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE!? What dark powers do morning people possess? A few years back, I would gladly sleep in as late as possible and head to work after the morning rush. If I wanted to avoid the grocery store crowds, I'd go later in the evening rather than earlier in the morning. I never understood the early-riser hype.

But guys. Something happened recently. I started waking up earlier on Saturday mornings to grocery shop. I started to feel a sense of accomplishment when I had cleaned house and done the laundry before noon. I started suggesting the Mr and I get up early and climb Kennesaw Mountain on the weekends. I started naturally waking up earlier and earlier. I started to notice a shift in my internal clock. Then... after I chose a work schedule that gets me to the office before the morning traffic rush, it hit me. 

Morning time has become a mermaid.

I'm willingly choosing to get up around 5am and get my day started. I've even caught myself following a morning routine. I've never had a morning routine! WHO AM I!? Am I coming into my dark powers? I'm now an early riser who looks forward to a refreshing shower instead of wishing I could go right back to bed. I walk and feed the dog; I make breakfast; I do more to my hair than just pulling it back in a ponytail; I take time on my mascara and a variety of other things before 7am, and it feels good. 

Mornings are beautiful, but it took a while for me to see the (sun)light. Now the only good thing about mornings is everything (!). You can get stuff done and still have time to enjoy your afternoon. You can enjoy the sounds of silence outside your windows. You can watch the natural light from the patio slowly overpower your light bulbs. 

You can also see yourself slowly turning into your mother. 

I get it, mom. Mornings are bomb.

Next up in life changes: learning to quit the snooze button. ;)

♥

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