For those of you who have not had the misfortune of being around me first thing, I am not a morning person. At all. In fact, I tend to think I’m an anti-morning person. I simply cannot wake up before 8 AM. I don’t wake up quickly or easily, and when I do, I’m grumped about it for a good while after.
This has led me to certain habits, like setting my alarm an hour before I need to wake up, and doing so on a clock radio, which I find much easier to wake up to than the cacophonous hell-scream of most electronic alarms. I usually leave the music on after I get out of bed, to catch snippets of news, and also because music manages to break through my perpetual waking gloom. I like morning radio. The announcer on KFOG has a soothing voice, and morning music tends to be upbeat but mellow. It’s good for a cranky-pants like me.
So there I am. I’ve showered, and I’ve got my breakfast. Little bit of Jack Johnson on the radio, little bit of Sara Bareilles. Overall, a decent way to start the day. Inevitably, it cut to a commercial break, and a woman with deceptively lulling tones asks me the following:
“Do you have or do you know any one who has non-healing wounds?”
WHAT. THE. FUCK. No, I don’t know anyone with non-healing wounds. The hell kind of question is that to ask somebody first thing in the morning? Do I really want to be pondering non-healing wounds at 8:30 in the morning with a bowl of vanilla almond granola and a towel on my head? Christ, I don’t want to be pondering them at all, ever. Thanks, Stanford Medical, for turning my first meal of the day into one of sputtering indignation.