How I Failed Miserably at Being a Morning Person

I once believed that becoming a morning person would magically fix my life.

Instagram told me so.

There were thousands of beautiful people sipping green smoothies at 5:00 a.m., journaling about gratitude, and greeting the sun like they’d just won the lottery of life. I wanted that. I wanted to be that person.

So I did what any self-respecting, slightly delusional adult does.

I bought a planner.

Chapter 1: The Alarmpocalypse

I set my first 5:00 a.m. alarm with the seriousness of a Navy SEAL on a stealth mission. I named it "Wake Up & Be Awesome."

I also set backup alarms:

5:05 a.m. – “Seriously, Get Up.”

5:10 a.m. – “Your Future Self Hates You.”

5:15 a.m. – “This Is Why You Have Back Pain.”

I even downloaded a hardcore alarm app that made me solve math problems to turn it off. Spoiler: I almost threw my phone out the window trying to solve 7 × 9 before sunrise.

When the first alarm went off, I opened one eye, saw darkness, and whispered, “Nope.” I don’t remember turning the rest off. I only remember waking up at 8:42 with one shoe on, my planner under my pillow, and a banana in my hand like it was a weapon.

Chapter 2: The Smoothie Incident

Morning Person Me was supposed to drink something healthy. I had Googled “power smoothies” and found one that involved kale, flaxseeds, and something called spirulina, which sounds like a cousin of salmonella.

I put it all in the blender, added almond milk, and hit the switch.

What I forgot: I didn’t put the lid on.

What followed: a green explosion that hit the ceiling, the curtains, my cat, and most of my dignity.

My roommate walked in, took one look, and said, “Is this a crime scene or a vegan protest?”

Chapter 3: Sunrise Yoga

Next on the schedule was yoga at 6:00 a.m.

I found a YouTube video titled “Morning Zen Flow for Beginners.”

The woman in the video whispered calming things like, “Let your breath guide you,” and, “Flow like a river of intention.”

Meanwhile, I was flowing like a broken slinky.

Halfway through “Downward Dog,” my arms gave out and I face-planted into my living room rug, which smelled like regret and forgotten snacks.

At one point, the instructor said, “Let your spine become a waterfall.”

I misheard it as, “Let your spine become the floor.”

Challenge accepted. I just laid there for 20 minutes.

Chapter 4: Journaling and Other Lies

I bought a leather journal. It smelled expensive and judgmental. I wrote exactly three lines:

5:33 a.m. – I am grateful for coffee.

5:34 a.m. – I hate everything.

5:36 a.m. – Why am I awake. Is this enlightenment or nausea?

The pen slipped out of my hand and I passed out with my face pressed into the word “coffee.”

Later, I flipped through Instagram again. One influencer had written an entire page of reflections and mantras by 6:00 a.m. I zoomed in and noticed they’d spelled “gratitude” wrong.

I felt better.

Chapter 5: Going for a “Brisk Walk”

I thought a walk might reset my morning.

So I ventured out in my gym shorts, hoodie, and flip-flops. Yes, flip-flops. Because my shoes were covered in green spirulina paste from The Smoothie Event.

At 6:45 a.m., the only other people outside were joggers who looked like Olympic athletes, old people with suspiciously aggressive dogs, and one woman power-walking with so much intensity I’m pretty sure she was trying to escape her family.

I, on the other hand, was moving like a zombie with hip problems.

At some point, a squirrel ran past me faster than I was walking. He looked back. I swear he smirked.

Step 6: “Just Have a Light Breakfast”

The morning people blogs said to eat something light. Something energizing. I made avocado toast.

It looked like a shoe sole wearing green mush.

I took one bite and dropped the toast on the floor. My cat, still wearing bits of kale from the blender fiasco, licked it, sneezed, and walked away.

I ended up eating cold leftover pizza while standing over the sink like a caveman. And honestly? It was the best part of my morning.

Chapter 7: Productivity Hour

7:30 a.m. – Time to be productive! This was supposed to be the golden hour of creative energy.

I sat at my desk with my laptop open, candles lit, and calming instrumental music playing.

I opened a blank document. Stared at it.

Opened TikTok.

Watched a guy make a breakfast sandwich in under 30 seconds.

Felt ashamed.

Watched another video of a cat falling off a table.

Laughed so hard I woke up my roommate.

I wrote exactly 4 words in my journal:

“This is a trap.”

Day 2: A New Hope (That Died Immediately)

They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. I didn’t even make it to day two properly.

That night, I set my alarm again. I went to bed at 9:30 p.m. sharp. I did a “bedtime meditation,” drank herbal tea, and put lavender oil on my pillow.

I woke up at 2:00 a.m. convinced I was being attacked by a bee. Turns out I had left my phone flashlight on and rolled over onto a cough drop.

At 5:00 a.m., I threw my phone across the room when the alarm went off. It hit the wall and started playing Spotify at full volume. My playlist? “Songs to Cry To (Lo-Fi Edition).”

I did not wake up to peace and productivity.

I woke up to Billie Eilish whispering my emotional damage back to me.

Week 1 Summary:

Blender casualties: 1

Faceplants: 3

Unintended naps: 7

Spine flexibility: -3

Journaling insights: “I want pancakes.”

Overall growth: I can now fall asleep in 5 different yoga poses.

Final Attempt: The Ultimate Morning

On Sunday, I tried one last time.

This time, no alarms. No influencer schedule. No expectations.

I woke up at 8:17 a.m. naturally, without a math equation or soul-piercing ringtone. I sat outside with coffee and a blanket, listening to birds argue in a nearby tree.

I wrote in my journal:

“I am not a morning person.

And that’s okay.

But I am a coffee-at-8:17-without-guilt person.

And that’s good enough.”

Epilogue: Peace, Pajamas, and Pancakes

I gave away the planner to my roommate (who wakes up at 4:30 a.m. by choice—a monster).

I now wake up when I wake up. Sometimes it's 7. Sometimes it's noon.

But every morning, I have my little routine: a cup of coffee, some deep sighs, and maybe a stretch that doesn’t result in ligament damage.

The influencers can keep their sunrise meditations and 10K steps before breakfast.

I’ll be over here, hugging a waffle and living my best slightly-late life.