Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Carpe Diem

This morning began at the tender hour of 3:30 AM.  That's AM.  Very AM.  Mom began shouting loudly for help.

Now normally I'd just get up and pleasantly ask her what sort of help she requires, but this weather has done a number on my head.  Most of my housework takes place after sunset in the un-air conditioned parts of the house.  The result being, I don't get to sleep until well after midnight.  So, one can only imagine my demeanor between horizontal and vertical as I rose to heed her call.  Suffice it to say think Godzilla in a nightgown.

It's always the same.  Something in my brain, or heart, or wherever nudges me that something's amiss and that I must rise from sleep.  Check that.  Truth be told, responding at half-past cat's you-know-what feels like being shot out of cannon.  Half my brain struggles to focus on the present moment, whilst the other half blasts in my head, "I WAS SLEEPING!"

Compound the yelling and the committee meeting going on in head with the ergonomic safety issues involved in said response.  Things like, "Where the hell are my slippers?" (Necessary, since I might have to lift Mom.)  "What did I do with  my glasses?"  (Note to self:  They are usually on top of my head.)  Often times as evidenced by the permanent bruise on my right leg from the running into the bed's foot board (see preceding eyeglass query) I'm a bumbling mass of humanity trying to scramble myself together.  As all this takes place, my mother continues to cry for help even though I am at this point screaming that I'm here and that I'm coming to her aid.  As much as I repeat that response, she'll keep calling me wildly until my countenance (disheveled as it may be) presents itself by her bedside.

The "emergency" turned out not to be an emergency after all, which irritates the sleep deprived side of me to no end.  Mom, at last, proclaims she's now comfortable.  Great!  Super!  Now, I can catch another hour's sleep.  I scurry back to my bed, anticipating a short, but healthy rest.

I round the corner only to be greeted by a Cairn terrier who apparently has his own call to be met since he heard Mom's pleas.  He appears to have his legs..  This requires locating suitable attire because I never know who I'll run into at 4 AM.  Right?  At 4:10 AM, we return to the house after Dickens has decided to announce "dawn's early light" to the neighborhood.

By now it's 4:15 AM.  The outside thermometer points to a saturated 78 degrees.   My body has decided to demand coffee.

Screw it, I'll sleep in October.



  1. "Screw It, I'll sleep in October."

    That about sums up life perfectly sometimes!


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