"Things always seem worse in the morning."
This line has been appearing in my mind for the past few weeks, the moment I roll out of bed and start assembling the number of tasks that need to be accomplished for the day. And they always seem impossible as I brush my teeth. Always.
As lunch time approaches and I reflect on a wonderfully slow morning, however, they start appearing more possible. There's a reason why there're more hours after lunch time than before, you know. Afternoons have a way of drawing all the nasty stuff to themselves, leaving you to enjoy your mornings and evenings.
Always have, always will.
When you were little, mornings were the best time to be awake.
Honey Stars in milk. Homemade tuna sandwiches with too much mayonnaise. Sunny egg tarts. Bustling morning markets. Steamed dim sum with your parents. Cartoons, cartoons, and more cartoons.
When you were little, you slept afternoons away.
Hot, scorching sun. School buses. School lunches. Household chores. Homework. Tuition. Waiting for parents to come home.
When you were little, evenings were almost as wonderful as mornings.
Football. Badminton. Running around. Climbing about. Bicycles. Kites. Slippers. School buses (not your own). Woks clanging. Setting sun. Coming home to the whiffs of dinner.
And nights, a cherry to top it all off.
Dinners. Television. Homework. More television. Computer, maybe. Sleep.
Now that you're older and wiser, are your mornings still mornings?
Indeed, things always seem worse in the morning.