The Time I Tried to Be a Morning Person (and Failed Spectacularly)



The 5 AM Alarm Clock Debacle

Let me preface this tale of attempted self-improvement by stating, for the record, that I am not a morning person. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m powered by moonlight and procrastination. So, when my relentlessly cheerful coworker, Sarah, told me about the life-changing magic of waking up at 5 am, I should have known better.

But, oh no, not me. I, armed with the unyielding optimism that only comes with a good night’s sleep (at 2 am), decided to become a morning person. I envisioned myself jogging in the crisp dawn air, green smoothie in hand, radiating productivity before the sun even thought about rising.

Spoiler alert: It didn’t quite go as planned.

morning began like a scene from a horror movie. My 5 am alarm blared, assaulting me with its cheerful chirping. Groaning, I fumbled for the snooze button, only to knock the entire alarm clock off my nightstand. After a near-death experience involving a rogue charging cable and a spilled glass of water, I managed to turn the infernal contraption off.

The rest of the morning was a blur of stumbling around my apartment, trying to remember how to operate a coffee machine, and blending what can only be described as a “green smoothie abomination.” Let’s just say, spinach and bananas do not a happy marriage make.

The Great Pre-Dawn Meltdown (and Other Misadventures)

The next few days followed a similar pattern:

  • Alarm clock torture
  • Existential dread in the shower
  • Questionable food choices

By day four, I was running on fumes and an alarming amount of caffeine. My usual sunny disposition had been replaced by the thousand-yard stare of someone who had witnessed unspeakable horrors (or at least attempted to decipher tax forms before noon).

The final straw came when I, in a sleep-deprived haze, accidentally put my phone in the refrigerator instead of the milk. That’s when I knew, with absolute certainty, that I was not cut out for this whole “morning person” thing.