I have always averred, to Appa’s amusement, that I am a morning person.

Now his laughter is provoked by two things. Firstly, he believes that after 5am, it is afternoon. Therefore, by waking up by 8am most days, I am not waking up in the morning. Secondly, he finds it incredibly entertaining that we, as a generation, like to use phrases such as I am “blank” person.

But I digress.

The reason I aver the above (I’m just tripping on the alliteration today ain’t I?) is because whenever I wake up, I’m happy. It doesn’t matter what time of day, when I open my eyes, I smile. It might not be joy and ecstasy, but it’s definitely contentment. And it lasts past the tea-making-and-drinking-ritual, for about two hours, after which life can begin to get me down. This is why I HATE pre-tea confrontation or sulks. It is also why I am so totally at a loss on those occasions that I wake up sad.

I just don’t know what to do.

I can handle depression; I can control my more irrational fears and desires, even if I need to let em take over for a bit; I can deal with anger and I can cope with pretty much anything life throws at me.

But when I wake up, like this morning, with tears in my eyes, for no reason, all I can do is let them trickle forlornly down my face and concentrate on not letting my nose run.

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