Mornings...Ugh...
I hate mornings. Perhaps this is a leftover from my childhood, and I will grow out of it eventually. Perhaps it's hereditary (my father is also not a "morning person", although he bears up under the necessity of early rising much better and more consistently than I). Or perhaps I'm just, at some level lazy. I don't know. Either way, I hate mornings. Indeed, my worst time of day is the moment I have to arise -- not simply to awake (that is fine, as long as I can just lie in bed and "veg"), but the moment that I must actually haul my carcass out of bed. Now, that doesn't mean I don't do it. It just means that I dread doing it, and would gladly skip mornings if I could. So, you can imagine my horror when, after having worked until 4:00 a.m. and gotten to sleep at 5:00 a.m. (today), the client for whom I was working calls my cell phone with the *ahem* wonderful news that something else was broken, and that I had to fix it immediately because t...