Not A Morning Person First, sound trickles in your ear like beads from a pearl necklace somersaulting down a staircase. Then, the slow caterpillar of awareness creeps up on you of the three hundred count sheets wrapped snug around you. Light peeks under your eyelids, hopeful for a willing playmate. Reluctant, you pull the sheets down, phalanx against oncoming day. Your defenses are shattered by odor of warm greasy breakfast cooking in the next room. A smile comes as you realize that boyfriend and breakfast tempt you awake.