Thoughts On An Early Morning
It feels like a school at this hour of the day- not the place I go to meet my social quota, run into people in the hallway, and wile away the hours between classes. At 8:30 AM, the place feels like an institute of higher learning.
People walk around in that early morning brain-fog; their eyes have a slightly Asian look; you know, morning eyes. Eyes that don't want to be open quite yet. The halls are quiet, and conversations seem more somber, perhaps because I'm not having any. The 8:30 crowd is not my crowd; if my people are here, I have NO idea where to find them.
This morning is full of down-time. Psych study at 8:30, 10:30, and some elusive online study to do, once I track down the url. Why am I here again? Oh well, I suppose here's just as good a place as any to waste away the morning. I could study. In a place like this, an atmosphere like this one, I almost could. But, let's be real. It's 8:30. I'd likely fall asleep.
The 8 AM bus ride is full of pleasant surprises- the smiling (not yet awake) face of Jonny, the sound of someone calling my name from behind me- a friend from home, and a chance for a quick catch-up conversation. REAL people ride the bus at 8 AM. The mid-afternoon buses are reserved for the slackers and the unemployed, the senior citizen population, and those whose booze cruise from the night before is either just ending, winding up again, or is still in full swing. But not so at 8. At 8 AM, it's all business. Just being there, on the bus, at such an hour makes me feel more productive. Already I pat myself on the back for making it out of bed, out the door.
It's now 9:30. Having completed task A of my ABC's I now have no idea what I do with myself. Thoughts cross my mind on the escalator. At 9:30 AM, I imagine these thoughts to be profound, and I seek out a place from which to share them with the world. It turns out, they are not, but that will not likely be realized until at least noon, when I am awake enough to return to myself. At 9:30 AM, the witty, quippy me is still in bed. Somber, retrospective, strangely awake me is currently presiding.
I have classes today at 2:30 PM, and a lunch date at noon. The day is so empty it echoes. What does one DO on a 9:30 campus, on an 8:30 day? Is there life after bed and breakfast? I'm holding out for the sweet familiarity that will surely hit me around 11AM, aka a reasonable hour to be out of bed and in action. But for the moment, there is nothing to do but to be. here.
And try to make it count for something.
People walk around in that early morning brain-fog; their eyes have a slightly Asian look; you know, morning eyes. Eyes that don't want to be open quite yet. The halls are quiet, and conversations seem more somber, perhaps because I'm not having any. The 8:30 crowd is not my crowd; if my people are here, I have NO idea where to find them.
This morning is full of down-time. Psych study at 8:30, 10:30, and some elusive online study to do, once I track down the url. Why am I here again? Oh well, I suppose here's just as good a place as any to waste away the morning. I could study. In a place like this, an atmosphere like this one, I almost could. But, let's be real. It's 8:30. I'd likely fall asleep.
The 8 AM bus ride is full of pleasant surprises- the smiling (not yet awake) face of Jonny, the sound of someone calling my name from behind me- a friend from home, and a chance for a quick catch-up conversation. REAL people ride the bus at 8 AM. The mid-afternoon buses are reserved for the slackers and the unemployed, the senior citizen population, and those whose booze cruise from the night before is either just ending, winding up again, or is still in full swing. But not so at 8. At 8 AM, it's all business. Just being there, on the bus, at such an hour makes me feel more productive. Already I pat myself on the back for making it out of bed, out the door.
It's now 9:30. Having completed task A of my ABC's I now have no idea what I do with myself. Thoughts cross my mind on the escalator. At 9:30 AM, I imagine these thoughts to be profound, and I seek out a place from which to share them with the world. It turns out, they are not, but that will not likely be realized until at least noon, when I am awake enough to return to myself. At 9:30 AM, the witty, quippy me is still in bed. Somber, retrospective, strangely awake me is currently presiding.
I have classes today at 2:30 PM, and a lunch date at noon. The day is so empty it echoes. What does one DO on a 9:30 campus, on an 8:30 day? Is there life after bed and breakfast? I'm holding out for the sweet familiarity that will surely hit me around 11AM, aka a reasonable hour to be out of bed and in action. But for the moment, there is nothing to do but to be. here.
And try to make it count for something.
Labels: university life, Winnipeg
1:24 PM
That's the wonderfulness of getting up early, though... you finish doing something, look at the clock, and realize you have almost a whole day yet. You should try it more often.
And don't think for a moment that I find it easy, either. top
3:24 AM
It is a wonderful feeling. Unfortunately I don't experience it too often.
And if you're at school that early on a Wednesday, you could have at least stopped by the station to say hi. Sheesh. :P top