I love an opportunity to go to bed on time or early even. There’s always this grandiose idea that you’ll go right to sleep, get a full eight hours in and feel totally refreshed the next morning – it’s such an awesome thought. It’s such a great thought and idea, that I’ll even plan how the next morning is going to go. I’ll wake up feeling wonderful, have a quick snack and toss on the sneakers and go outside to walk in the beautiful morning sunlight. I get giddy thinking about it. Reality is that I might sleep ok (eh), but I’m never fresh, I’m pillow hugger and a bed magnet all rolled into one. I hate the alarm, I don’t want to get up, I have sleep in my eyes and I hit the snooze 3 times. Now I’m running late, I have to get a shower, fix breakfast which includes caffeinated coffee, literally drag two dogs around the neighborhood to pee and poop (no you don’t have time to sniff the clover much less pee on it!) then toss on some work clothes and race out the door to the car for work. There is absolutely no time for any irregularities or variances to the schedule.
One of the main reasons I don’t get in the bed early is because I married a night owl and his off spring is a night owl. I am a regulated person whose sleepy timer goes off between 9:30 and 10:00 pm without fail. And even if I make a normal bedtime this still doesn’t make me a morning person. None of us can make a coherent sentence until after 10:00 a.m. and then that’s pushing it. Oh we can get up before the crack of dawn if we have to but it needs to be for something good (like a trip out of town). We all shuffle around like 80 year olds first thing and look like we belong in the nursing home. If you come to visit, just keep quiet until you hear one of us speak first. Loud sighs do not count as words.
The other night my peaceful sleep was interrupted by an invasion and I’m still having trouble getting over it. My night owl daughter had friends over late and the TV was on. I just couldn’t tune it out so I did venture downstairs to remind them that I was going to attempt to awaken at 6 am. No problem, volume down. I had settled back into bed when I heard a crazy noise. In my mind I decided my youngest pup had probably gotten into the trash and pulled out something to chew. I flipped on my trusty flashlight to find her sleeping peacefully. Ok fine lay back down. Noise starts up again. This time it must surely be my oldest dog that snores like a sailor. Trusty flashlight on, find the dog… yep, sleeping peacefully. My mind is still not fully functioning and I lay down again. (Did I mention hubby is sleeping peacefully too???) Bless his heart. I close my eyes and then I place the sound, it is above my head and it is tiny little feet scampering in the attic. Squirrels!
These little rascals had backed up a U-Haul, hired two men and truck and were moving in. I’m pretty certain they had their little stereo blaring and had brought in a keg of beer. Frat party. They had staked off an entire section of the attic from the master bedroom to the bathroom. Luxury living….wood floors, well insulated and in a fairly upper class neighborhood. They quickly ran from one end of the upstairs apartment to the other arranging furniture, hanging pictures and unloading boxes.
Meanwhile I am underneath with my trusty flashlight following their movements. I am wide awake and madder than an old wet hen. I go turn on an overhead light and peruse the room. Both dogs are still sound asleep and so is hubby. Nary a movement from the three of them. Both dog breeds are European and from stocks that were originally bred to protect the home from rodent invaders. Obviously Westernization has ruined these two.
My sweet hubby is breathing lightly and still sound asleep. I shake his arm and ask loudly, “do you hear that?” He’s a gracious fellow and politely asks what I’m referring to. I point to the ceiling and say “that” as five squirrels race across the attic floor in their Nike sneakers they just found in the box marked “shoes.” He is not amused and lets me know that he’ll take care of it. I should go back to sleep. He’s kidding, right?
I manage to get the light off and crawl back in the bed fearful one of those critters will fall through the ceiling and landing on me a la “Christmas Vacation.”
Sleep still eludes me as low flying helicopters begin to circle around our neighborhood for about an hour. I watch far too many cop shows for my mind to think it is anything but police looking for a criminal…but it did make the squirrels quiet down. Hummm, had these wiry rascals just escaped the nut house and now the cops were in hot pursuit? I’m the one going to be ready for the nut house soon… I can tell.
Did I go to sleep? Well eventually. I mean I guess I did since I had to wake up to hit the snooze button three times. Lucky for me I’m off tomorrow and can sleep in a bit, but the sad thing is I’m going to be making a trip to the DMV which most of us fondly call the Little Shop of Horrors. …..Squirrel!