Lucy G tries to become a Morning Person. Fails hilariously.

I love sleeping.

If I could marry sleeping, I would. As long as I could curl up for a nap during the wedding ceremony.

But, for various pain-in-the-ass reasons, I’m looking to become a Morning Person.

Even better: A Morning EXERCISE Person.

Until now, my workouts have been saved for after work, or not at all. Except for a brief period in summer when I was all enthusiastic and jog-y, I’ve always preferred getting sweaty in the gym at night.

If that.

So to aid my mission, I asked Old Man Google. ‘How does one become a Morning Exercise Person, dear Google?’ I ventured, with my reading glasses perched on my nose and my head tilted at a quizzical angle.

And the advice was bullshit. Believe me. I tried it.

“Place your alarm clock across the room, so you have to get out of bed to turn it off.”

So I did. I got out of bed and turned off my alarm. And then I turned around, and GUESS WHAT? Do you know what was still on the other side of my room? My bed. Still warm, still delicious, still easy to climb back into and fall asleep without a single fuck given. So I did.


“Turn your alarm into a funky song that will get your adrenalin pumping.”

I tried waking up to what is indisputably the funkiest song in the history of mankind, Uptown Funk. And now I hate Bruno Mars. I hate him personally, with a vitriol so focussed and so strong that it scares me. It’s not his fault, he was just trying to fill his cup and put some liquor in it. I was the one who made him do it at 6.15 a.m on my bedside table.

“Lie in bed and remember how good your last workout made you feel, and let it motivate you.”

The problem is, if I lie in bed after my alarm has gone off and visualise anything, that thought tumbles into a dream and then before you know it, I’m helping my ninth grade English teacher dig a tunnel so we can save the otter trapped in the house made of bubble wrap.

“Sleep in your gym gear.”

Doesn’t make it any easier to get up, but sure as hell makes it a lot harder to fall asleep. My sports bra is digging into me. Was I supposed to take off my sneakers?

“Have a morning ritual.”

I already do. It’s hit the snooze button for thirty minutes, calculate the exact last second I can get out of bed, sleep through that by at least ten minutes, get up, do make-up in car while eating breakfast with one hand and texting boss with new tardy lies. What? Are you saying that’s not a ritual?


I want to be a Morning Person, I really do. But can someone just move early morning until after 9.a.m, please? Or better yet, until the arvo? Also, while you’re at it, raise the morning temperature by twenty degrees and move my bed by twenty blocks until it’s next to the treadmill, please?


Seriously though, please help me. Advice welcome. Any time after 9 a.m.

Read more:

Being tired from sleeping too much. And other absurdly middle-class problems.

What your sleeping position says about your relationship.

The picture book that sends kids to sleep in a few minutes.