Sunday morning, rain is falling

  • Mar. 16th, 2008 at 9:57 AM
lu: (Sleep)
When you're a teenager (or even in your twenties) there is a tendency to turn nights turn into days, the pm into the am, the moon into the sun. Either partying with your friends in the latest hip club of the city, or cuddling in bed with your computer and a hot cup of coffee (or, if you're lucky, your girlfriend), when you're young you just want to stay up during those early morning hours.

It's no wonder it came as quite a shock to me to find out I am actually a morning person.

Let me take a moment to clarify that statement: I love going out with my friends to the latest hip club of the city and having sex with my girlfriend cuddling with my computer in bed throughout the night. The only real difference between myself and the majority of people my age is that I don't work as well during the early hours. Ok, not the only difference, but the main one.

It took me quite sometime to finally come out to myself as a morning person. As a kid, I never had any trouble falling asleep at restaurant tables when my parents took me out to dinner or waking up early to go to school. Back then, the real trouble lied in going to slumber parties and staying up all night. Boy, did I have to make an effort not to fall asleep at 2 am (and, to be perfectly honest, I still do sometimes). In high school, when I really started to study for exams, there was another sign: I could only pull an all-nighter if I slept and then woke up really early to study — say, 3 am.

What made me truly realise I am a morning person, though, was Sunday mornings. Once I got in college and started reading the newspaper everyday, I decided to try and wake up a little earlier on Sundays in order to read the ginormous O Globo's Sunday edition, along with the online version of The New York Times while watching the F1 Grand Prix on the television.

Gradually, this little ritual managed to lengthen what seemed to me like the shortest day of the week, allowing this narcissist girl to spend some quality time with herself, finally admitting to the world her condition as a morning person.

A morning person who needs her coffee, mind. I'm only human.

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You like bowling, don't you, Montag?

If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. If the government is inefficient, topheavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel like they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.

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