How NOT to Function in the Morning

By McKinley Chabot

It’s 11 o’clock at night. You set your alarm for 5:40 in the morning, already dreading what’s to come. Tomorrow is Wednesday, and you have a meeting before school. You’ve been late the past couple of weeks, so you tell yourself that tomorrow is going to be different. “Okay, I’m gonna get up right when I hear my alarm, eat a quick breakfast, and be out the door by 6:50. I’ve got this, everything’s going to change for me”. Deep down, however, you know that it’s not. 

Sure enough, when 5:40 rolls around, you can’t even bear to roll over, let alone get out of bed. You shut your alarm off with a long, angry sigh, and decide that 5:45 is a much better time. After all, what’s a few more minutes, right?

Except it’s not a few more minutes. You fall back asleep, and this time you don’t have your alarm to get you back up. Instead, you hear the shriek of your mother, ruining every chance you have of peace and quiet. 

“It’s 6:10, GET UPPPPPP!”

Suddenly, a burst of energy rushes through you. Shoot! What’s going to happen now, you’re already 30 minutes behind schedule. But it’s okay, you can eat and change faster. A ponytail is going to have to do for your hair. 

After racing down the stairs, you run into the kitchen and grab a scone. Planning on taking the scone upstairs with you, you storm back through the living room to make your ascent. But the tv catches your eye, and you stop in your tracks.

It stares at you, with its empty black face, trying to suck you into the world of entertainment. You try to fight it, but you just can’t; you’re falling into the black hole. I mean, you’re already 30 minutes late, what’s 35 minutes, right? Personal enjoyment is more important than priorities anyway. 

So a smile spreads across your face. You jump on the couch, excitement running through your veins. Reaching for the remote, you begin eating your scone. Trying to make yourself feel better about your decision, you vow to head upstairs once you’re finished eating. 

When you turn the tv on, you see your favorite show. OMG, it’s your favorite episode too! So when you finish breakfast, you don’t run upstairs. Instead you’re hooked, glued to every scene that comes across the time-sucker. Your concentration isn’t broken until your mother screams at you, asking why you’re still downstairs. 

Okay, so now it’s 6:40, and you have to leave in ten minutes. That’s still doable, as long as you figure out what you want to wear within the first two minutes of being in your closet. I mean, that’s never happened before, but you’re hoping that’s going to change today. It shouldn’t be that hard. You have a lot of clothes, right?

After five minutes passes, you realize that today is definitely not different. You haven’t picked your outfit yet, and you only have five minutes to get out the door. Turns out, you do have a lot of clothes, but you don’t want to wear any of them. This may sound stupid, but it’s a real crisis to you. 

When you realize that you have three minutes until you need to leave, you decide that you have to pick something. Jeans and a sweatshirt it is. Sprinting into the bathroom, you throw your hair into a ponytail. The ponytail looks awful though, there are way too many bumps for it to be considered presentable! So you try again, which takes up an extra 30 seconds. You brush your teeth quickly, and realize it’s exactly 6:50. You’re about to head downstairs when you notice that you don’t have mascara on. 

Stopping for a second, you decide what’s more important. Should I get to my meeting at a reasonable time or look good? The choice is obvious; you have to look good. With no mascara, you’re destined to have a bad day. You might as well just give up right then and there. So you turn around, head back into the bathroom, and apply some mascara. Just your luck, it smudges all over your eye. 

Ready to scream, you look at the time. It’s 6:53. Great, just great, you were supposed to leave a few minutes ago and now you have this problem. And you have to fix it, you can’t go to school looking like an idiot!

Two more minutes pass, and you’ve finally fixed the eye situation. Surprisingly, you got through it without losing your mind. Still, you have your mom on your back, yelling at you that it’s time to go. 

You make it down the stairs, and shove your sneakers and wattle bottle into your bag. Just as you’re about to run to the garage, you realize you still don’t have shoes on. So you grab the first pair that you see, which doesn’t even match your outfit. Still, you have to wear them, so you slip them on as fast as you can. 

As you head out to the garage, you look like a chaotic mess. Your bag is on one shoulder, you’re running as fast as you can, and your face is bright red. You’re a human tornado, focused on nothing but everything at the same time. 

Suddenly, you trip over your own feet. It was bound to happen, but it surprised you anyway.Your mom, who’s sitting in the car waiting, looks at you with a mixture of pity and disgust. Who’s kid is this anyway?

You didn’t do a great job of catching yourself, so you’re laying on the ground. Luckily, the only thing that’s seriously injured is your pride, but the driveway is wet from the downpour last night. Now your sweatshirt and jeans are soaked. At this point though, it’s too late to change. 

Picking yourself up, you trudge over to the car. You hop into the passenger seat, looking disgruntled as ever. You’ve rolled your eyes so much that they’re in the back of your head. Stupid legs, why did they have to crash into each other? 

You buckle up, and your mom drives you down to the school without a word. She probably knew that you would explode if she spoke. Of course, to add to your mood, there is a long line of traffic. That adds on another few minutes to your lateness.  

Finally, the high school comes into view. Your mom drops you off at the front, and you give a half-hearted wave goodbye. It is now 7:11. The meeting started at 7:00, but you’ll go in anyway. At least that way it looks like an effort was made. 

As you reach the entrance to the building, you see a kid already heading in the door. You start jogging, hoping they will see you and be kind by holding the door. Hope rushes into your heart, this may be the first good thing to happen to you all day! But the student doesn’t look back, and you get a door slammed in your face. Apparently, the universe literally hates you. 

Before you go in, you grumble to yourself; “Wow, I just LOVE people!”

Once you make it inside, you head over to the lecture hall. Opening the door as quietly as possible, you slip in. Everyone stares at you, piercing you with their judgemental eyes. The advisor gives you a quick glance and then goes back to talking. 

When the meeting is over, you meet up with your friends, who got actual seats since they were on time. There was no standing in shame for them, which is what you experienced. They actually know how to be on time for things, unlike your dumb self. 

Immediately, you get bombarded with questions. “Where on earth were you? Why are you always late?” 

Another friend looks at your sweatshirt and pants. “Why are you all wet? Did you get in a fight with a sprinkler or something?”

Not wanting to answer anything, you sigh and shake your head. They keep pestering you, so you finally have to come up with an answer. 

“I’m sorry guys, but I really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

After a silent walk to class, you take your seat in the room. As you sit down, you contemplate some simple questions. Why do you always do this to yourself? Why are you so stupid? Why, for once, can’t you just be on time? But these questions feel like deja vu. Every time this happens, you ask yourself these things, and you always decide that you will never be late again. 

But that’s never actually happened, and it never will. Tomorrow the struggle will repeat itself, perhaps even worse than today. Being late is a part of you, a part you cannot change. All you can do is laugh and make the most of your hopelessness.