Well I didn’t get to bed last night when I meant to. I blame the SDMB exclusively for that. Also during the night we had thundershowers and my little Shiz tzu ( pronounced Shit Sue and heavy on the shit part) dog, Miss Penny thinks that I am her great protector during these traumatic events. The rest of the time she is my wife’s dog. Well excluding of course those moments when I am eating, at which time she would gladly and unabashedly be happy for us to be joined at the hip.
So she gets up on my bed at 3:00 AM shivering with each thunderclap and doing that fast breathing thing in my left ear that little dogs do when nervous or frightened. And naturally my 10 year old is scared of any lightening, so he came in and piled in bed with us too. It was not a restful night sleep.
The alarm goes off this morning at 6:30, I get out of bed and step right into a wet pee spot. :mad:
Apparently Miss Penny has gotten so frightened during the night that she has felt obliged to relieve herself right there by the bed. I stumbled to the bathroom with one wet foot and attempt to pick up my toothbrush only to realize that my right arm is numb from my ten year olds head laying on it half the night. It’s at this point I hear a hissing sound coming from the kitchen. The automatic coffee maker has come on at the appointed time but someone has thoughtlessly ( me) left the pot part in the sink resulting in hot coffee running out of the maker and on to the kitchen counter and into the floor.
Cursing, I make a cup of instant coffee and peer bleary eyed at my pill bottles by the side of the bed. One for blood pressure, one for cholesterol and an aspirin just in case I have a heart attack during the day at work. I wolf them down with my cold coffee and naturally the aspirin sticks in the back of my throat. I fall in line for the shower behind the wife and the 18 year old who takes his in his usual leisurely manner (God only knows what he does in there) which uses most of the hot water. By the time it gets to my turn the best my shower head can do is spew out tepid sprinkles.
I finally get dressed and get to my truck and there is no gas in the damn thing. I meant to get some last night but nooooo what did I do? You guessed it, stayed on the computer reading the SDMB and having a small libation or two until late. I trek through the wet grass out to the shed and find the lawn mower gas can and put the remaining half-gallon in my car. It’s enough to get me to work.
As I walk down the halls in my building the first person I encounter is the boss. “Good morning!” He exclaims. The bastard has obviously had a good nights sleep. I reply the same way I have for the last 20 years.
You know aha, I came across an interesting tidbit
yesterday that said that Tuesdays and Thursdays
are the most productive days in the work place.
I guess Friday everyone can’t wait to get outta
work. Monday everyone is half asleep. And
Wednesday people take it easy cause it’s the
middle of the week. That tells you a lot about
most people.
Would this be a good time to mention that I - having relocated to Germany - don’t have to work on May 1st ?
No, probably not. I won’t, then.
Oh, and Silo: You don’t have to press Enter when you reach the margin, just keep typing to your heart’s content - the board will handle formatting for you.
I too had some liberations last night. At 5:45 this morning, a good 45 minutes before my alarm is scheduled to blast my eardrums, one of my dogs starts whining to go out and pacing back and forth. I let 'em out, go back to bed. 10 min before alarm time “The Woman That Also Lives In The House” (herefore refered to as TWTALITH) is yelling at me because one of the dogs didnt get put out with the other two. Put the dog out, go back to bed. Just doze when BWAAAMMP BWAAAMMP BWAAAMMP, alarm goes off. I get up, turn the alarm off, put on my robe, and look down to a pile of dog puke, Grrrrrrr. I go to the Bathroom and start to poop, the dogs are barking wildly and constantly out in the courtyard. TWTALITH yells “B_Line” I pretend I dont hear and continue to poop. ““B_LINE”” a bit louder she cries. Now I know she wants me to go shut the dogs up, but I’m pooping for cripes sake, so I ignore her again. “”“BBBB____LLLIIINNNEEE!!!”"" SHE BLOOD CURDINGLY SCREAMS!!! Still… I pretend I dont hear her and finish pooping. I go out, yell at the dogs. I shower and do my normal routine. EXEPT my razor in the shower is gone and TWTALITH’s leg razor is the only one there. I lather up, prepairing to scrape the tiny hairs from my face, place the razor on my cheek just below the hairline in front of my ear and pull down. Now this next part is hard to describe with just words, but the blood streaming down my face and the feeling of facial hair being pulled out rather then simply cut off should do. I finish cutting my face and pulling the hairs out by the roots and dry off and get dressed. I then unfortunatly remember the dog puke and had to go clean that up. I go out to my car and I too am out of gas, but I am too late to stop and get some so I spend the whole trip to work hoping and praying that I dont run out of gas. Of course, I hit every street light and have to use as much gas as humanly possible, but i made it. I may not make it to a station on my way home, but at least I made it to work. Now here I sit, drinking nasty coffee on an empty stomach and feeling sick… and I can feel my throat getting sore, yup, Im gonna get a cold. But the day can only get better… right? Right?!
My monday started rather well really. I was still partying at 5 am which was fun. However, when the alarm clock went off 20 minutes later, I was not amused. I arrived at work an hour ago. It’s 2-15 pm. Oops. The boss is less than happy. I am less than happy. I’ll never drink again. As if.
