I’m not big into mornings, especially when they follow nights and long days. They are rude and intrusive, and gnaw away at your ankles, dragging you back to earth and away from dreams of soaring over mountains.
Waking up in beautiful company, with a zest for your lives, or with a mild hangover puts a good spin on things, but you’d still have to beat me about the face with scrambled eggs to get any sense out of me during the first 20 minutes of waking. Or, you could throw me in a fresh pond with Dimitri and Corinna and MJ. That gets the juices flowing. If you’re as sceptical as I am about the existence of bearable minutes before 9am, try coming to Barton Springs. It’s free. It’s wet. It perks you up. Your friends are doing it.