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It wasn't unusual for Clint to have a hard time waking up in the mornings. On occasion, he had a warm dog curled up next to him, even though Pizza Dog knew he wasn't supposed to be on the bed (aw Lucky, wet nose nooo). Once he'd gone to bed with a concussion; oops.
Sometimes he didn't hear his alarm - either because his phone battery was dead, his phone was missing (he really needed to get some better sealed pockets to put stuff in during missions. He'd lost 6 phones and 3 spare pairs of hearing aids because they'd fallen out of his pockets while running from bad guys or jumping off of buildings right before they exploded or collapsed.) and because he refused to buy an alarm clock with lights. He didn{t need one anyways.
He had things to do. He couldn't just stay in bed all day no matter how much he wanted to. Lucky needed to be fed and let outside. Targets needed to be decimated with his superior sharp-shooting skills. His apartment building needed to be defended, fixed, and rent collected. Clint didn't just live for himself; he hadn't since leaving the circus (being betrayed and nearly killed, and then left for dead by his own brother) at 15 years old.
He was a SHIELD agent. He was an Avenger. He was a landlord and a mentor. He was the caretaker of a dog with PTSD and chronic pain due to injury (stupid Russians).
Coffee was his best friend. Yes, he liked coffee, but not as much as he let people think. Coffee kept him moving most days. The stronger the coffee, the better he functioned. The strong bitter taste of black colombian blend, or the smooth richness of a dark chocolatey espresso is what he woke up with. The coffee maker was his real alarm in the end. He'd slept in once and found that cold espresso wasn't nearly as good as nice hot espresso (aw cold coffee no). So when that first aroma of coffee reached him, he pushed passed sleepiness, Lucky, injuries, and negative feelings. He ate something (shut up Nat, Kate; Pizza counts). He drank his pot of coffee. He faced his day no matter how much he didn't want to.
He didn't just live for himself. There were other people who needed him. Lucky needed him. New York needed him. Nat needed someone to watch her six and Kate needed the training.
There was hot coffee waiting to be drank, so Clint got up.