Good morning to you

I woke up this morning to the sound of a baby being run over a tractor - but as usual, it just turned out to be my cat, hunched in front of my face, begging to be fed. I buried my face in my pillow and reminded him that he wasn't due for breakfast for another hour and would he please just "shut up and snuggle, you fat asshole!!". But he succeeded in getting me out of my warm bed and I started my day as I always do: Sluggishly moving through the kitchen, fixing Dobby his breakfast and insulin shot while growling at him*, then making myself the strongest cup of coffee my french press is capable of and sitting in front of my computer until I had to go to the bathroom.

When I'm overnight-ing it on tour, it is more or less the same. Waking up to the phone alarm and after hitting snooze for the fourth time, a jolt of panic runs through my body that I might be running late and I jump out of the hotel bed, counting my blessings that I showered the night before, or coming to the divine conclusion that I smell like a basket of roses and angel babies even without showering, and I grab my bags and hope that I didn't leave anything (like my Converses at the Comfort Inn in West Palm... sigh) and scurry down to the lobby to grab coffee that tastes like it was brewed years ago after a long night of drinking Billy beer and Alabama Slammers and excuse myself once we reach the theatre to go use the restroom.

If morning rituals have any bearing on how our days pan out, then perhaps I need to find a better ritual than one that's centered around pooping. I'm sorry, I should have used the more delicate phrase: "Take a Big Girl", but if you haven't yet figured out that my mornings are all about successfully, um, moving, then you probably are also missing a lot of the not-so-subtle suggestive language I use in this blog. Plus, I figure most of you spend your mornings pooping- discreetly, if you're partnered or room-mated.

I've tried various additions to my morning rituals: yoga, light jogging, going back to sleep... When I lived up north, my morning walks to work or to the train, especially through the snow, had a powerful calming effect over my state of mind and generally made me less of an Anxious Annie. I liked that. If I woke up tense and shrieking like a banshee, I'd move through the rest of the day terrifying anyone who came in contact with me.

Different things work for different people, as far as setting the tone of your day goes. Some people, some freakish, inhuman people, have to go to the gym first thing in the morning in order to feel good! Others, brace yourself, watch cable news. Blargh! I know, outrageous, right? For me, I've found the best morning ritual is laughter.

Ugh, that sounds so fucking corny, The best medicine is laughter, but dammit, for me it is one hundred percent true. If I wake up laughing, I will spend the rest of my day as affection and sweet tempered as basket of puppies. Speaking of puppies...

Like the rest of America, I love funny animal videos. Talking dogs, Canadian beavers, Honey Badgers who don't give a shit, I love it all. Recently one of my favorites is, appropriately titled

EPIC CAT FIGHT Cat's Horror

Try and doubt it's awesomeness and it will slap you in the face with it's perfect and amazing use of the Predator 2 soundtrack. Holy moly, this thing is the best ever.



So there you have it, my morning. I drink coffee, use the ladies room and giggle. How do you start your day?

* I truly bear my cat no ill feelings, no matter how much he whines. If someone only fed me half a cup of dry pellets while jabbing me in the back of the neck with needles twice a day every day for the rest of my life, I'd be pretty fussy too. Plus, look at this butterball of sass and sunshine!

The Wilford Brimley of Cats.