25 August, 2008

Terminal Morning Sickness

I am not a morning person. 

This simple fact has been corroborated across the years by my mother, father, brothers, sister, friends, and subsequent boyfriends (ahem) - pretty much anyone who has ever tried to wake me up before my internal clock was ready. One of the first lessons I learned at college was that 8am was no longer a viable time for me to expect to be at class, followed shortly by the more do-able but still dubious 9am during my Lost Theatre Years. 

Mornings do strange things to me. In my house, pre-caffeine statements are treated much like the statements of an alcoholic on a binge, and it's not unusual for ManCandy to refuse to speak to me entirely until I've had a cup of tea or coffee. 

All of this could be chalked up to laziness, a love of warm beds and cuddly cats, or simply a refusal to join the workaday world, if it weren't for one thing: the morning sickness. 

I've never been pregnant and don't ever intend to be so - the particulars of which we can go into if you like, but really, my mind is pretty made up after 7 siblings, growing up in my stepmother's daycare and being both a teacher and a nanny - but if there's one thing I understand, it's the vertigo and nausea of morning sickness. If I get vertical before the sun is high in the sky, the contents of my stomach are as likely as not to end up elsewhere.

Coffee is a shaky bet. Tea less so, but generally have to I warm up with a simple cup of hot water before moving on to anything that makes me marginally human. Food of any sort is strictly verboten - even Gigi's cure-all yogurt - for a minimum of an hour or two. It's a chore being me before 9 in the morning; I suppose it's the price I pay for being this fabulous the rest of the day.

But this semester, which will hopefully be my second-to-last for some time, I'm taking 9am classes. And in order for this to be my second-to-last semester, I need straight A's - none of my usual half-assed attempts to attend class followed by a slow decline into only showing up for tests will serve. 

Just the thought is making my head swim. Maybe I'll just get a bartending gig and go back to bed; education can't be that important, can it?