I can't handle waking up

Waking up is SO hard and we're all just expected to do it every day, and be cool about it. --Zooey Deschanel, on Twitter

Word, Zooey. I read that a while ago and thought, "this girl feels me. That is exactly how I feel about waking up." (And yes, I look at some people's Twitters. Is that what you call it? Or do I say I'm following their tweets or something? I'd rather say I look at Twitters. It makes me sound like an old guy or a mom, and I like that. And it makes me feel dumb that I check out people on Twitter, but if you haven't read Mindy Kaling's, you're missing out. That girl is funny.)

The point is, I HATE to wake up. I bet once a month I wake up and think, "Ok, time to wake up. I feel fine."

Every other day I wake up and think, "NO NO NO NO NO NO!" and frantically try to figure out how I can sleep the very longest. It's a complicated algorithm that factors in hair greasiness, availability of easy lunch food in the kitchen, shirts that are clean, whether my keys, phone, ipod, wallet, chapstick, etc. are all in the same place already or whether I will have to gather them, and if I have zits or not, which affects makeup necessity.

I don't know how Chris does it. His alarm goes off at 6:00, then he sometimes sleeps until 6:20. He leaves the house at 6:45. But he doesn't like start crying or anything when he has to get up. I seriously almost do, some mornings. And I'm super grumpy. Just this morning I got up and went to the bathroom while Chris was getting dressed and ready, and I was like, "What the heck? Why is it morning already? I feel like I JUST went to bed! I hate this. Can I go back to bed?" To which he of course says, "Dude, you can do whatever you want." But for some reason I have this nagging guilt about sleeping while he's awake, like I should be up making him breakfast while he gets ready, and then sit and eat it with him before he heads out the door. I have done that 2 times I think. Possibly 3.

And I know many of you are thinking, "Erin, I know how you roll. You go to bed so late! You've always been an up late sort of girl! Just go to bed earlier." But here's the thing--that Erin is gone. We start going to bed at 10:00, and I am usually completely asleep by 11:00. If we stay up until midnight it's unusual. So I'm definitely getting ENOUGH sleep. I just can't get up. It is too hard. I hate it. I don't know when we started this, but sometime ago Chris and I started singing the Folger's jingle in the morning, but switching the words and singing, "The best part of waking up is going back to sleep!" And I think that pretty much sums up my philosophy on morning time.

But here's the stupidest part, and the part that I cannot make myself believe in the first few moments of wakefulness--if I just GET UP, I will be fine in like 5 minutes. And every time I DO get up early, and have enough time to actually dry my hair, and chat with Chris before he leaves, and really pick out an outfit, rather than just haphazardly grab some clothes, I really like it. So what is it about my brain that begs me to sleep until 7:25, and convinces me that I can totally shower, get dressed, possibly dry my hair, put together some lunch, gather up all my things, and leave the house by 7:30? It just doesn't make any sense.