Night Me is the person I want to be. She’s a dreamer and a planner and a go-getter. She will finish everything I didn’t do all day long in a matter of minutes. And then she’ll look for more things to do and create before she has to give in and go to bed when it’s after midnight. She’s a maniac on speed, determined to write and read every book and also solve world hunger all before before the next morning.
Her only downfall is she relies far too heavily on Morning Me.
Morning Me is like that pothead from high school who wants to do well and means no harm, but damnit they just can’t get to school on time because they fell asleep on the couch again, man.
Morning Me thinks about all of the plans Night Me made and says, yea that sounds cool, let me sleep for one more hour and then I’ll get right on it.
This happens to me every day.
Every night before I bed I get this unnecessary boost of creative energy.
I suddenly get the urge for a new story idea, or a blog post, or to find ten different screenplays I must read at this very moment or my life is over. And after I toot around on my computer until I’m completely exhausted I’ll drag myself into bed and fall asleep immediately.
No, that doesn’t actually happen. Instead, I will lie in bed as my mind races 100 million miles per hour thinking of new ways to conquer the world in the morning. I think of jokes to be written, videos to create, dogs to save, food to make, there are no limits for my crazy mind when I’m lying in bed. It is going to solve everything. Isn’t there a word for this? Is it called anxiety? Being 27? Or just being a human?
At the very least, Night Me is always determined to get up the next morning and do two things: workout for 30 minutes, and free write for 30 minutes. It’s so simple, just get up an hour early and do them. Night Me is convinced accomplishing these two things in the morning is the secret to success.
Morning Me has a different idea.
The moment my first alarm goes off I have forgotten every grand plan from the night before. Literally every plan is dead to me. I hit snooze on my phone without even realizing I do. My only thought is more sleep.
By the time the second alarm goes off I’m a little more coherent, but still resistant to get up. I think about the plans from last night, the same plans I make every night, and think to myself, why would I get up and do all that when this warm bed feels so amazing?
Then all hope is lost. I wake up an hour late as usual and run around like a crazy person for the first four hours of my day trying to get work done.
I want to be a morning person, I really do. I love the calm of an early morning and getting stuff done before the rest of the world (isn’t that what morning people, say?) Unfortunately, I love my bed more.
Ugh, Morning Me is the worst.