My name is Kate Canary, and I have become a morning person.
"Hi, Kate".
I actually couldn't will myself to sleep later than 8:30 this morning even though I don't have to be at work until noon, and am decidedly too sore from this weekend's combination of pilates/outdoor running/elliptical to go to the gym without undermining any real muscular progress.
I can't help but feel like this time is thus wasted, though I have consequently had the opportunity to clean my apartment, do dishes, watch the entirety of Regis and Kelly AND Rachael Ray, thoroughly enjoy my morning coffee, and write this blog post.
Is this the life of a morning person? Is this why these people live their lives in such an inexplicably calm state? I'm the girl who would roll out of bed at 10:45 for an 11AM class (ungodly early, but a degree requirement) - just enough time to throw on some yoga pants and a sorority hoodie and stumble into class, kashi bar in hand.
Yet here I am, in an outfit complete with matching accessories, make-up, and an almost unnerving sense of readiness. Is this adulthood?
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