When I have commitments that require me to be up and moderately functional before 9 a.m., I have a strict routine I follow so as not to upset my delicate "night owl" constitution. If you thrive when the sun goes down, try applying these practices to keep your cool during those dreadful morning hours.
There is a moment when I think I might cry. Or yell. Or just put my head down on the desk and pound it a couple of times. But then I happen to look at my youngest son, perched in my big reading chair, from just the right angle and I notice how much taller he's suddenly gotten, how his adorably chubby baby legs are now thinning out into the shape of a lanky little boy. How is it that the last 30 minutes have seemed an eternity when the rest of his life has flown by so very, very quickly?