Dear 8ams,
First of all, I have one important question for you. Why? Why do you have to be at such an awful time, so early in the morning? Why do you make me shower when it’s too dark to look out the window and why do you make me walk to class when the sun is just coming up? Why do you have to be a science class, in a subject that I have no interest in, and why oh why do you have to be every single day? Can’t I get a break? It’s an accomplishment for me to come to class every single day at noon, let alone at 8 in the morning.
Sure, once I’m actually in the shower and start to wake up a bit, things start to get a little bit better. I feel like I can actually get things done, because whether I want to be awake then or not, there’s no denying it – I do my best work before noon. I’m more productive then. But still, oh dearest 8ams, I’d rather not be awake at all. Ideally, I’d be able to sleep until the middle of the afternoon, and I would have to cram all my homework in after dinner, feeling stressed. It’s become the college student aesthetic, after all. So I’d really love it if you didn’t exist – giving me the opportunity to procrastinate all my work as much as possible.
And sure, maybe I feel pretty good when I show up to class with my makeup on, contacts in and hair done. I feel more confident when I take the time to look good, because waking up early means that I have plenty of time to get ready after class as well. I can head back to my dorm at 9, and now that I’m finally awake, I can take some time for myself. Plus, the bathrooms are pretty empty then anyway, so if I need to use my extremely loud hairdryer, I don’t have to worry about bothering anyone. But still, I’d much rather go to class with my hair a mess and in whatever clothes I hope are clean. I’d much rather suffer through a presentation later in the day, wondering if everyone is looking at my sweatpants rather than thinking about what I’m supposed to be saying.
Finally, 8ams, I’d love it if you didn’t try to convince me that this is what adult life is like. I’m not out of college yet, I don’t have a real job and I won’t for a few more years. This practice isn’t going to help me at all. Even though you’re making a habit of forcing me to wake up, I’m more confident that I’ll actually wake up before noon on weekends. You’re making a better person out of me, 8ams, and I’d prefer it if you stuck to making me feel miserable instead.
I never wanted to see the sunrise everyday. Even though it’s beautiful and I get to watch it while walking across campus, feeling good about myself and about the day ahead, I could live without it. Probably.
…
Dear 8ams,
Hey, thanks. You’re not so bad after all.
