I am not a morning person. I don't spring out of bed with bright eyes or bushy tail, ready for the day with a spring in my step and a song in my heart. No, I remove myself from bed in a process similar to scraping gum off asphalt.
Prior to my morning coffee, I am a creature of terrifying visage and unspeakable cruelty. Those who would wish me 'good morning' receive a cranky snipe or a groan that would make horror-movie mummies tremble in their wraps.
And then there is coffee. This wonderful elixir ushers me into the day, transforming me from monster to human in a magical wave that is uncomfortably reminiscent of the Beast's transformation in "Beauty and the Beast." I am reborn, able to face the day and return sincerity to my smile.
But beware -- should you catch me before the caffeine has taken effect, approach at your own risk.