four months into the school year. the school year where the girl has to get on a bus at 6:45-6:50 a.m. (a.m.=Amazingly, Mutherfuckinglyearly in CK's world). you'd think after four months that hearing the alarm go off at 6:20 (but it's really 6:00 because i set it fast on purpose to steal time from myself) would not make me physically ill. you'd think. and if you thought that, you'd be wrong.
it is now 7:01, i'm getting ready to get the boy up (he has to be at school at 8:20 but i drive him); the hubs is out of town, though he's coming home tonight. i am on my second cup of coffee and yet i still am not awake. i seriously want to crawl back into my flannel-sheeted bed and snooze for another 10 minutes, just 10, but i realize the faults in that plan. 10 minutes turns into 20 snugly warm ones and then 30 and then holy shit we're scrambling to get the boy to school.
a couple of weeks ago i had this grand plan. this thought came to me around 8-9 p.m., far removed from the satanic time of 6 a.m. i thought it would be an excellent (can't you just see me rubbing my hands together devilishly?) idea if i got up at 6, got the girl up and moving and then got on the treadmill while she was getting ready for school. what an efficient use of time! what a great, healthy thing to do!
as i sat here this morning at 6:21 a.m. with my cup of coffee i realized that will probably never happen. i.don't.function.well.in.the.morning. seriously, sleeping in is one of my most favorite things in the world.
and, it doesn't matter what time i got to bed. i can hear all you morning people now, just go to bed earlier, then you won't have a problem getting up. yes i will. sometimes i do actually keel over asleep at 9 pm (not often, but sometimes) and the next 6am is no easier to face than the last one.
*****
four months into the school year and the girl needs new everything. don't EVEN ask about fucking book bags. i think she has elebenty billion and just don't ask me about those things. we had to buy her new tennis shoes this week, she's outgrown the ones we got when school started. also? her pants---which we bought a mere 4 months ago---are turning into floods/high-waters/too short (what did you call them?) before my very eyes. oy vey, she may very well reach her goal of being taller than me (i'm a tall 5'4") but i didn't realize it would be THIS year!
*******
it is now 7:16. the boy is getting ready. i need to get ready or else i'm going to be wearing my pajamas (again) when i drop him off at school. really, what would be the harm in just wearing pajamas all the time? they're comfy. and, while i realize light green pajama bottoms, a purple t-shirt and a red and black penguin-covered flannel robe might not be the most stylish ensemble, it works for me; though i'm sure my co-workers would laugh at me behind my back.
6 comments:
wait...if you listen really closely...you can hear my heart breaking for you about getting up early ;)
I miss sleeping in. It's been a long time. I can only hope that the boy ceases to be a morning person at some time.
mornings. feh. what can you do. i think the day should start at about 11 or 12. and for the longest time it did. thats what running an out-of-the-way cafe' gets you. but then i had to come back to america and reality and face the facts of life. and i say again, feh.
this is why caffiene and assorted amphetamines were created.
I had to laugh about your treadmill idea. I have that same thought, right up until it's time to get my fat ass out of bed!
Patrick grows out of everything he owns in about February, every year. Why don't I plan ahead for this, you ask, so I can buy him something before it's all gone? Because I'm stupid, I think. Josie has gone through two trapper-binder thingies so far. Ugh.
heinous--i hope you're playing a tiny violin too cos srsly, people should feel sorry for me getting up that early.
just--i think we should start a petition to have the work day start later, like AT LEAST 10 or 11.
astarte--the boy's on his second binder and second bookbag; the girl--omfg, i think she's on her 4th bookbag and 2nd binder. i HATE that shit. and? it's not that there was anything WRONG w/ the bookbags, it was because they didn't "feel" right or didn't hold enough or they were the wrong color or hurt her shoulder or insert another 11 yr old's reason for wanting a new bookbag.
I'm just going to put it out there, that it is a damned good thing you and I live in separate countries. If we were closer, we would be besties and the worst influences two women of great likeness could be to each other.
Seriously. I would convince you it should be perfectly acceptable to wear your jams to work, for the simple fact that I want someone to give me the same permission.
shere---yes, it's probably a good idea there's a border between us : ) LOL
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