18 May 2008
The Morning Effect
An early start leads to a revealing day for everyone involved.
Here’s the thing: I am not a morning person. Not by any stretch of the imagination. It takes at least three intravenous injections of pure caffeine to get me on my feet. If I’m going to do anything stupid today, it’s highly likely I’ll do it within an hour of waking up. So what happened wasn’t really my fault. I mean, I think I deserve a little sympathy, at the very least.
That day was a pretty normal day, as far as my schedule went. A couple of errands to run in the morning — collect a prescription and hand an assignment in at college. In the morning, of course, when everything important has to happen. Anyway, after all three of my alarms had gone off twice, I finally dragged myself, bleary-eyed, out of bed and pulled on the first pair of jeans that came to hand. Button-up fly, naturally. Nothing that happens in the morning is designed to make your life any easier. I stumbled around the house a bit, topless, fly buttons undone — because who has the energy to fuck with buttons first thing in the morning? — and made some tea, had a shower, and so on.
Made it to the bus stop in good time, feeling pretty good. Got to the surgery in town. Dark, depressing, dank waiting room. Two old ladies behind a glass window, as if it was necessary; who’s going to rob this place? Odd look from one of the ladies — not sick enough for you? Sorry, prescription’s not for me. Maybe some other time.
Presented it to the pretty little thing in Boots with a wide smile. Beaming in fact. “It’ll be 15 minutes. You can wait or come back,” she said with a giggle. I’ll wander around for a while. Funny place, Boots. Despite all the elaborate displays, brightly coloured price tags, and attractive cashiers, it has a kind of sterile feel to it. It smells so clinical, despite the huge perfume counter running along the back wall. Found myself in the women’s toiletries aisle eventually — inevitable, really — where a stout old lady gave me a dirty look and walked away in the opposite direction. Hey, I don’t really want to be here either. I went back to the giggling blonde, collected the prescription, and made my exit.
Wandering down the high street to college. Feels alien; I’m not usually in town this early. This is strictly pension-collector and single mother territory. It feels almost as though they’re all staring at me, glaring even, as I walk past, examining the strange intruder into their world. Made it to college without incident, though. Met a friend for a coffee. “Your flies are undone,” she informed me with a smirk. Shit. Good point, I never did get those fucking buttons done up. That’s the morning effect for you.
I handed in my assignment, and made my way out of there, stopping in at the bathroom on the way. Standing at the urinal, I went through the hoops of getting my fucking buttons undone again, reached in to negotiate my boxers, and… where are my boxers?
Oh, right. I didn’t put underwear on this morning. And I’d been wandering around town with my jean buttons undone all morning. That means…
The odd look from the old ladies. The giggling cashier in Boots with the wide smile. The stout old gremlin that wanted to be nowhere near me. The single mothers and the pension-collectors all giving me dirty looks.
Oh fuck.