Another one of those nights, with cat on head, sweaty sick child snoring in one’s ear, wife hogging covers. Finally wake up before alarm, wrecked, check clock there in dark: six o’clock! I’m a half hour late! Why didn’t the alarm go off? Pretty tired for six, but I’ll be able to function, I think. Run downstairs, go to bathroom, start to make coffee in kitchen, look at wall clock: 12.30 at night. I’d gotten the big hand mixed up with the little hand in the dark.
Five hours left to sleep! What a wonderful feeling!
Yes, life doesn’t get much better than that. Five Hours! I get excited when I wake up ten minutes early.
That is the best sort of time disorientation.
I’m about to get on a plane, leaving most of a day in a credit account, to be cashed when we come back home. That’s fun, too.
See you at the Albert Memorial!
Woohoo!
Dude, you better let me sleep tomorrow morning, if you wake me up before eleven then you’re a dead man. Forget walking around with a carboard cut-out of Michele, I’ll be walking around with the freshly-pulped cadaver of Miguel.
And we have to get a few pitchers of Long Island Spiced Teas tomorrow night.
that is indeed an excellent feeling.
and by the way, you’ve joined the illustrious ranks of ‘American Beauty’ as one of the few artistic endeavors with the GUTSY REALISM to mention the fact that you do indeed go to the bathroom.
Bravo, old chum.
Cat on head is a bad thing?
cat on a head is a bad thing. even when they’re cute and purry and you love them, it’s so hard to sleep with a feline hogging the pillow.
5 more hours, though? yum. you lucky miguel, you.
you’re both right. cat on head is a good thing, except when you’d like to sleep, and it’s also purring and doing that thing with its claws.