Day 193: Cough-drops for breakfast?

Sorting through my files today, I found this little blurb.

Written off-the -cuff,  just for me,  about fifteen years ago.

I like it. I didn't correct it, but will share it with you, as is. 

Cough Drops for Breakfast

It occurred to me, that if your day starts out with cough drops for breakfast, maybe you shouldn’t be hoping for a stellar day.  I heard a commercial, where the lady laments, if she doesn’t start her day right, then she doesn't hold out much hope for the rest of the day. I got to thinking about that and decided if I based my oncoming day on the way I perceived it when I got up, I would no doubt, turn around and go back to bed daily. In all honesty, I have to admit that that has happened, more than a few times. 

I guess this would ultimately boil down to the long-hackneyed morning people vs. night people. Morning people being those who wake with delight, eager to rise and pursue their  destiny at ungodly hours of the early morning. I have never experienced that, except once when I was taking a newly-produced vitamin that provided blissful sleep and waking in a clear, alert mode, which was new to me. Alas, that company went out of business and I returned to waking like a sloth. I’ve always wondered what ingredient was responsible for my character change. This must be something akin to a drug addict trying to deduce the whereabouts of his next fix.

Night people , by default , would be productive in the later hours of their day. I truly think I was born an “either-one”. I don’t recall being particularly strong or weak at any hour.  It is possible that I just don’t remember.  But I do know when I officially became a night person.  I had three jobs one summer. One was working for Kodak. It was a graveyard shift, midnight till 8:30 am.  My job was to clean film.  Obviously, this was not an executive position, in fact it was, likely soon after replaced with a machine that would not care to take time out to look at the film being cleaned.  

There is a reason they call that shift graveyard.  At break I would join the older cadavers in the commissary, and it was not a pretty sight.  I remember asking  what they did during the day? The answers varied from going to the beach to getting the kids to school and housework. Everyone had found a solution to how to handle the rest of their day with what they had left to work with.  I was the youngest, so body fuel economy was not yet a blip on the radar.  Now that I think about it, I was not converted to being a night person.  It was a necessity, like joining a union, something I had to do for the job, in order to make the money.  Night person training  was to be a valuable skill at college. 

Oh college! I think most people my age would have to say that. It’s been awhile, and when I think back there is a pause that involuntarily happens.  It is such a blissful, stressful, how many adjectives abound. I don’t think anyone there really realizes what a great time it is until it has passed, never to be reconstituted, though Lord knows we’ve tried.  To attend college, you must convert to night person. Okay, I’m sure there are college students who both rise and go to bed early, but I wouldn’t trust them!  It’s just not normal at that time of your life.  What is normal is to put off assignments until they are literally hammering at your skull and due the next morning.  Normal is choosing to fill each day with most of the things you weren’t able to do in high school.  Social activities take on an equal importance with detente and are justly honored.  It is after all, one’s duty to experience and grow, and if you can pick up a degree on the way, bravo!