Good morning

I always say, “Good morning.” The full two words. I’m a hopeless morning person. Cheerful and ready to go.

My boss hates morning. If he can squeeze out a greeting at all, it’s, “Mornin'” in a barely audible grunt.

By late afternoon he’s after me to do 10 things that I’m too tired to do.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “good morning.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

3 thoughts on “Good morning”

  1. A character in some TV show (I can’t remember which) had a line he repeated often, “She’ll sing at me. I know she’ll sing at me.” I’m pretty much homebound and receive a main meal daily. It’s delivered by volunteers some of whom evidently have stereotyped all people in this situation to be lonely and without human contact. On her day, wihout fail one volunteer arrives at my door, singing the ditty “Good morning! Good morning! …….” The tune is great. Her intentions are good. The effect on me is bad. Since I’ve gotten used to which day it’s her turn I try to be elsewhere when the door bell rings. Stereotyping any person, no matter to what group they belong, especially dark-skinned people and us oldies is wrong, wrong, wrong. It’s enough for a someone like myself who absolutely loves mornings to run for cover.

  2. “Good Morning Glory!” She loved gardening like crazy. When she was a child her mother always woke her up saying, “Good morning glory!” Her favorite color was blue. Morning glories come in a beautiful shade of blue that she loved in particular. Of course, years ago she would leap out of bed with joy and excitement thinking about her new day and what she would do with it. Now things are quite a bit turned around. Ever since her chemo treatments ten years ago her fatigue never seems to leave her. Although she gets plenty of sleep and is retired without a grueling professional schedule with early morning meetings, she is always tired. She has become a grouch in the mornings. She hates it every morning when her husband greets her in his usual chipper way. She is not prepared to talk or think when she arises. It takes her about half an hour to wake completely up. She feels zombie like. She wishes her husband would shut the hell up and leave her alone for a while but he never does. She resents that he is bright eyed and bushy tailed the way she used to be. She resents that she has become a morning dud.

  3. “Good morning” she said. As I walk into my kitchen to find a beautiful semi naked girl cooking breakfast. I know neither her name, nor what relation we share but if the clothes strewn on the floor are any indication, I say she was the stranger I shared my bed with last night. I remember her sexual dance and I remember how it made me forget just for a minute. She leaves after a recap of last night’s brief romance and even though she leaves behind her scent, my bed is still haunted by your ghost. I guess I will have to look for someone else today, maybe one with a stronger scent.

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