Usually I have a pretty solid idea of what I want to wear when I wake up, and thanks to a week-long bout of insomnia, I've had more time than usual to think it over. This not only makes my morning go smoother, but enables me to spend less time standing half naked in front of my mirror, holding up two different shirts to see which one matches the dark circles under my eyes best.
When in doubt, go with black (which, thanks to a house full of kitties, require some awkward positions with a lint roller). I wonder if Audrey Hepburn had the same problem.
Slowly but surely my wardrobe is transitioning into that of a spy from the 1960s who specializes in jewelry theft and international espionage. Not that I'm complaining.