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People ask me why I'm a morning person. The answer comes easy: I'm awake. The better answer, however, is that I am an optimist. Even when I'm bummed or in a funk, I'm up for the next round, punch drunk and weaving, I clock in.
Morning, to me, is a gift. The more of it I can have (earlier and earlier), the better.
Morning is time to groom my mind, to get my game on, to cycle through all the tunes in my internal iPod that get me psyched. It is the time of day when I am most creative, most playful, most energetic.
(Right now I expend all that on school, from planning to lecture to grading. Many times I have thought maybe that the best of me should instead be given to my family. It's still something to think through.)
I find morning is a bright future. Each minute to sunrise, instead of regretting that time is passing, I'm basking. I'm basting in my own exuberance. I'm enjoying what's coming. I'm full of anticipation.
I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.
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