And he had this odd thing where if I pulled together some impressions—a broad assortment of middling imitations that, for the most part, covered family members and acquaintances—he’d sometimes engage, chuckle to himself, rub his eyes, and cut the charade’s time by half.It became so rote that I hardly noticed the energy it all required, the way it accelerated my own return to the living. He is a night owl who manages to meet his obligations, unlike his partner, who is a night owl who selfishly depends on his partner to be the responsible one. Part of it, to be sure, is mechanical—the strength I need to muster to get us both out the door is enough for a work-day and then some. I’ve learned plenty about what it means for couples to sleep far apart, or at different hours of the night, or in various physical positions—when it comes to couples in the bedroom, there are too many points of focus to count.He gets up to shower and brush, and emerges from the bathroom awake.
Depending on the day, I’d be met with silence, guilt-tripping (“Come on, I didn’t sleep! ”), or literal growls (somewhere between a dog and a grizzly bear—Andrew, upon hearing the description, didn’t disagree).
I’d strip him of the duvet, blast clips of everything from late-night monologues to Judy Garland hits to his favorite Emmy acceptance speeches—niche, I know—all to no avail. It felt like I was shouldering an unconscionable burden. I’d pettily—nonsensically, really—bicker with him, both of us half-asleep, before we’d laugh it off and gradually drift into consciousness.
We moved-in together, stuck it out, graduated, relocated, and needed to get to work. Indeed, while there were plenty of articles and studies out there that questioned the durability of relationships between early risers and night owls, it seemed like we—two daily brunchers forced to retire the brand—were in uncharted territory.
Though a couple that notoriously steered clear of argument, our weekday wake-up sessions were suddenly, upon our transition to the “real world,” met with barely-conscious bickering and snide complaining.
(No, not even the promise of morning mating did the trick.) Every couple gets into their own rhythms, of course. So I picked up the slack, grudgingly: monitoring the alarm, wandering into the shower, indiscriminately grabbing clothing items, and—the main event—waking up my other half.
That last task was never less than a 15 to 20-minute undertaking.So eveningness may actually be a relatively new trait that potentially evolved because it offers mating advantages.As predatory and ecological threats decreased during early human evolution, the late evening hours may have become an optimal time to socialize and mate because that's when adults were freed up from hunting and gathering, as well as child care.Davide Piffer developed a “hypothetical scenario” for the evolution of the night-owl pattern.He proposed that since humans evolved from primate ancestors who were active during the daytime (diurnal), morningness was probably the ancestral evolutionary condition, or baseline, for our species.While Andrew told me stories of how he’d wake up at a.m.