Don’t talk to me in the morning. Don’t even look at me.

I hate getting up at 6am. I hate the fact that going to bed at 9:30 (which is relatively early for me) and getting up at 6am still only means 8.5 hours sleep. This may seem trivial and self-indulgent (when isn’t it?), but bear with me.

I was having a wonderful dream at 6 this morning — it involved all the great elements: Canada, the beach, shopping, Ben Folds, Deborah Mailman and me being 10kg lighter. I don’t normally have good dreams, so I was quite perturbed at the incessant HONK HONK HONK that woke me up. And that wasn’t my alarm clock. it was Jason telling me he was running late and that he’d be putting Mina in the car. See, I have to drive him to work so I can have the car. And I hate it.

And there is only one thing I hate more than geting up at 6am. It is idle, trivial, chatter when I am still waking up. I got in the car and everything was quiet. I was sitting there with my arms folded and all was well — I’d be awake by the time we got to Jason’s work. Look, I love my husband dearly, and we know each well, but he just doesn’t seem to get that I don’t want to talk to anyone for about half an hour after I wake up. No amount of grunt-answering seems to deter him.

Example. For some reason the radio was tuned to 96fm. I have no idea why people actually tune into this mindless crap — the last thing I want to hear is “alright, call in to us to tell us what you can cook to win tickets to XXX” I’m serious. No mental challenges there, except for the kitchen-illiterate. But sriously, 96% of the population can cook SOMETHING. And ‘something’ was all we heard. Here’s one brilliant response: “uh hi…. I make spaghetti bolognese with chopped up onions, chopped up mushrooms and tomato sauce”. My god. How astounding. I always thought that having radio call-ins was a way to engage an aidience to come up with quality entertainment — I normally listen to Triple J and they seem to have it down pretty well. But, my theory is, that anyone who is calling breakfast radio at 6am is a bloody moron to begin with. Firstly, because they are one of those irritating people that “love mornings”. Secondly, I don’t trust them because they have time to call said stations. Now, when I have to get up for something, chances are I will work out exactly how long I need between waking up and leaving, and get up at that time. Like this morning for instance. I crawled out of bed, put on my tracky dacks and got in the car. I have a serious mistrust of those that actually have time for anything other than breakfast, showers or driving. Thirdly, the fact that these people brains are working at that time of morning (or clearly arent, seeing that 96fm dialogue) shows that they are clearly aliens and not to be trusted.

Anyway, as if the inane drivel on the radio wasnt enough — Jason starts talking about Iraq. Now, I consider myself a fairly active person in terms of politics, and I find it hard to turn down a good discussion. In fact, right now “Iraq” is one of my main interests. But it should come as no surprise to you all that, for half an hour a day, I couldn’t give a flying fuck about it. All I want to do is go back to bed and dream about Canada and Ben Folds.And, for half an hour a day, I like being able to give the bird to the world without caring. Of course it does wonders for my relationship — you know, being snappy and all that. But I have always been the same so I suppose thats what he deserves for marrying me.

My daughter is the same as me. I think I have the only baby on the planet that quite happily goes to bed at 7:30 and will sleep until 10am given the opportunity. And she looks like me when she wakes up too. It srather funny — and scary — to see a mirror of yourself in the morning. Erm, without looking the mirror. Of course.

So, don’t talk to me until 8am. I likely to tell you to go fuck yourself.