7

I hate the 7 a.m. hour. I realized this fully yesterday. I think this hatred makes it impossible for me to get up then willingly, even if I'm decently awake. 7 a.m. is brown and dark and unforgivable. It's the brother who always punches you in the stomach. It's Benjamin Linus. It'll never go away, and it'll never be nice to you.

It's possible that I could get up at 6 or 6:30, nice green 6, but then I'd have to get through 7 still, and it would just be angrifying. 8, 8 is nice and pink, 8 is the soft freedom that comes after 7. 8 is breakfast on the porch or a soft warm morning snooze.

I need to cleanse 7 somehow. How do I cleanse an hour? Is there some kind of sage to burn for it? Should I make it a pie?

7 was never good to me. I've never been able to get up easily or early. Even when I had my Batman talking alarm clock. Really, if that won't get a 7-year-old out of bed, nothing will. So now 7 and I have to make friends again somehow.

I think 7 owes *me* a pie.