Morning With Me

So whilst browsing the blogosphere, which I’m not going to lie, is one of my most favourite things to do in that half an hour between getting home from work and making something to eat, I came across a post by a blogger wherein she goes through her morning routine (and wow I feel terrible because I didn’t bookmark it and now I can’t link back, shit) and guess what? I LOVED IT. I loved it I think, because I am the nosiest and I like looking into the little window of other folks lives and seeing what goes on there and so then I thought if I like that stuff then other people probably do also (because thinking that makes me feel like less of a weirdo) so I decided I’d return the favour and let you into my morning.

Which looks like this.

I am not a morning person. Let’s get that out of the way right now, I have never been and will never be A Morning Person. I hate waking up and I hate getting up and I hate starting my day. HATE IT. My best guy bought me one of those daylight lamps for Christmas, you know the ones: they have gradual light that starts half an hour before your actual alarm goes off so that you wake up nice and slowly and refreshed, and, at your allotted time, when your light is at full sunrise setting, you get this birdsong and everything is lovely.

I actually do love it.

& it has totally revolutionised my entire morning and WHO I AM AS A PERSON. It’s set for 6.40am because I ain’t ever going to be that ROLL OUT OF BED AND FACE THE DAY kind of a girl. So it goes off at 6.40am and I hit snooze which keeps the light on but tells the birds to stop the dawn chorus for a minute or so and close my eyes for another couple of minutes and then I crawl out of bed and get a glass of water, crawl back into bed, pick up my phone and check WhatsApp and Instagram and snuggle the kittens until the birds start again at 7 – also usually by this time my kittens are fed up of cuddling and are demanding ALL OF THE ATTENTION and also ALL OF THE FOOD so it kind of makes sense to turn off the alarm and drag myself out of bed.

So I do, and I am grumpy about it. Every morning I am grumpy about the whole getting up thing. Even though being jolted awake by some awful sounding iPhone noise is a thing of the past, I still hate leaving the comfort of my bed.

But I do. Because I am a (semi)functioning adult with bills to pay and I have no choice. Also as much as I hate getting up, I do actually love going about my day. Unless it’s Monday.

So I get up and I have a shower – never ever wash my hair in a morning though because it takes a million years to dry and what do you even mean, I never exaggerate – and do my face and clean my teeth and get dressed and straighten my hair and all that other getting ready stuff and then I have another glass of water and make my bed because coming home at night to an unmade bed stresses me out. By now it’s about 7.30am and I drag my still-not-quite-awake-self downstairs and make an espresso and put some food down for the catboys.


Seriously: that is when I start to feel like a human person and not a leftover relic from a zombie apocalypse.

Breakfast is usually a smoothie (almond milk, Greek yoghurt, peanut butter and vanilla protein powder FYI) and as I sit down to drink that, usually about 7.45am, my best guy calls and I sit in my comfy reading chair and chat to him whilst he drives to work.

Then, if it’s not raining and I’m walking to work , I pop my lunch into my cactus print lunch bag and quickly make a latte in a travel mug.
If the weather is inclement and I’m driving then I have about another 20 minutes before I need to leave.


I still make a latte and I still make it in a travel mug, actually, but I’ll drink it at home instead of on my walk so I’ll probably have another look at Instagram, check some emails, maybe read a chapter of my book, cuddle the kittens a little bit longer, and then I’ll panic because I don’t know where my car keys are. This happens probably 65% of the time. They are invariably under a cushion on the sofa even though they live on the top shelf of the bookcase.

And that, my friends, is what my morning looks like.

This is different, obviously, if I stop over at my best guy’s house. He’s an early riser, like, so early it’s still night time in the eyes of any sane person. It’s generally the weekend, so at around 6ish he’ll put on BBC breakfast and I’ll cuddle-grumble about it. He generally gets up pretty quickly once he’s decided he’s awake and so after a while he’ll extricate himself from my limpet like snuggles and disappear off into the sauna or whatever and I’ll half listen to BBC Breakfast and half fall back asleep.

Then I’ll fall totally back asleep. On his side of the bed because he’s left it all warm.

He’ll come in about 7.45 and ask if I want a coffee. I’ll say yes and roll back over.  I’ll drag myself out of bed around 8, have a shower and put on his hoody to sleepily wander into the kitchen. I’ll drink my coffee whilst he makes breakfast – he has mad porridge skills - and then decamp to the sofa with coffee number two and half watch the television and half read my book til I feel properly awake. Around 9.30am, usually.

My best morning though is when we’re in the mountains outside of ski season (ski holiday mornings are ridic and manic and I hate them). We wake up at around 6 and lounge about til we finally get up around 7 because who wants to waste a minute of holiday sleeping. NOT ME (ok actually sometimes a little bit me and some days we do lie in til 8ish) – we get up and we drink tea and shower and then we go for an early morning walk round the lake. It’s all super pretty and not too busy yet although there’s usually a runner or two or people with dogs and small children that you can smile and bonjour to. We stop at the little café on the edge of the lake for a grand café au lait and then we head home either a: via the boulangerie for almond croissants that we eat at home on the balcony or b: via another little café somewhere for more coffee, and tartine with jam and Nutella and honey. We’re probably back at the apartment for about half 9 – 10ish and it’s just the best start to any day ever. If I could morning like that every day then I’d totally be a morning person.