I only need one thing within 30 minutes of waking. It comes down to this: Leave me alone. Don’t talk. Don’t bustle around. Just shut up.
My mother said my father and I were exactly alike in the mornings. If so I know exactly how he felt. Mornings are not fun or pleasant. We don’t want to be here to begin with and then we are roused out of sleep which is a way of “not being here.” so we can face the world we don’t want to be in.
Needless to say, our mood is foul. Coffee. Lots of coffee. It isn’t a bright cheery “Look at the new day dawning. It’s wonderful to be alive.” but more of a “What the hell do you want?”
The longer I have quiet, the better. Jumping up, chipper and rushing off to face the day is more my idea of hell. My mother was a morning person. My mother’s mouth engaged as soon as her eyes opened. I understand my father’s look at her very well. I don’t blame him. She blathered. And she couldn’t’ understand why we looked at her with that evil expression. A conversation at 7 in the morning about where you want to go shopping because she decided you needed new shoes is not the way to get a look of “I love you, Mother.” I was 30. I was old enough to decided when I wanted new shoes and old enough to buy my own damn shoes. I didn’t come home to visit to buy shoes.
Someone asked me if I wasn’t angry at my father for divorcing my mother. Good God no. The poor man needed peace and quiet. At least one of us got away.
So leave me alone with my coffee for at least 30 minutes and let me sort myself into my “I can tolerate the world for another day.” It’s the best I can do. Sorry.