I am not a morning person. Morning is the cursed abomination of the day, a wretched, festering, stinking time when everything is bright, sunny and cheery in direct mockery of the pure pain and darkness that is my usual sinus headache. Unfortunately, my body is under the mistaken impression that I love mornings. Thus every day I wake up at 7:00, or earlier even, wishing that I could stay in bed for another hour. It’s even worse on the weekend, when I’m allowed to sleep all day, but find myself incapable.
At this sensitive time of the day, it is vital that I’m not bombarded by negativity and stupidity, which means watching the morning news is not an option. Thus I turn to my favored background noise, Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel, fonts of youthful ignorance and enthusiasm. Sure, it’s kind of cloying, but it is easy to tune out, and the positivity does manage to leak through my morning haze.
The problem is that while I get Spongebob in the mornings during 3/4 of the year, the summer months bring preschool programming from the crack of dawn until well after I leave for work. Nickelodeon’s is unbearable, with Dora the Explorer leading the charge of irritating “educational” programming.
My salvation is Disney Channel’s Mickey Mouse Club House, which plays for most of my pre-work morning. It may be meant for someone a fourth of my age, but the show inspires enough nostalgia for the classic characters that I find it almost hypnotic. I even find myself sometimes responding to the show’s prompts for response. I mean, I’m helping Mickey, ya know.
Which brings me to my random thought of the day, that inspired this rant. Are today’s children being trained to talk to inanimate objects? And will that still be considered a form of mental illness?