I’m a morning person*. Hardcore.
Whether I’ve gotten a full eight+ hours of sleep (so rare!) or just four (more likely), I can actually get out of bed and be ready to leave the house—without the ingestion of caffeine, with a fully functioning brain and a smile on most days—within thirty minutes if I have to, singing in the shower included. My morning effervescence is super annoying to those who are exclusively night people, those who can’t function well without coffee, and my sister. (*waves to Jules*)
My ability to cope with mornings like a champ includes the alarm clock. I have always, for my entire life, kept my clock on the correct time and set an alarm for the exact time I need to get up. There are no “fooling myself” shenanigans involving setting the clock later than it actually is so that I can safely hit a snooze button.
I know that strategy works for a lot of people, but for me? Nope.
Of course, when I called the front desk at the hotel on Thursday night to ask for a wake-up call, I didn’t share all of this information with the kind woman who asked if I needed a second call; I kept that long story short by merely telling her, “No thanks, I’m not a Snoozer.”
*I’m also a night person, but that story is for another time.