Masters: Early Mornings Are Not For Me


6:00am. My body is not designed for this. EURGH.

I actually didn’t have to be awake today until 7.15am, which is early enough for me. My dad had different plans, however. He’s off to Scotland today to golf on some world-famous course, which is all very exciting for him, but forgive me for being less than enthusiastic when he spends half an hour banging around, walking on creaking floorboards and generally being superloud at 5.30am, but then at 6.00am after I think he’s finally left, he knocks on the front door again because he’s forgotten something. This, of course, means I have to get up to let him back in because my bedroom is on the ground floor.

After he’s finally left, I drift back to a fitful sleep where I’m Scarlett Johansson in some weird book where everybody keeps beating her up because she changed their dead friend’s name in order to get them all more life insurance. Freud would have a field day. My alarm wakes me at 7.15, but instead of being well-rested I feel like my eyelids are glued shut and I have no muscle mass.

And now I have to go study for 9 hours. HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRGHHHH.

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