My alarm starts screaming at me around 6:00 every morning, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, I am a snooze button enthusiast. I've always wanted to be one of those people who are fortunate enough to have an internal alarm. I want to be the kind of person who wakes up before the blasted machinery starts belting lyrics at you or before the traffic announcers warn you about the accident on I-480 causing a 5 mile back-up. Alas, I am not so lucky.
The alarm goes off again at 6:30 and I hit the snooze button, 6:45 and I hit the snooze again. It's around 7:00 that my dog, Jack, will jump onto the bed, place is front paws on my back, and wag is tail causing his little body to go into convulsions. I think this is his way of saying "C'mon, wake up! I gotta pee!" I throw the covers off of me, turn the alarm off, and drag my feet to the back door. Jack follows behind happily.
When we come back inside I scoop some food into Jack's bowl while he immediately takes off for the bedroom to cuddle up to a still sleeping Jon. This is the only time during the day when I resent having gotten a dog--like I needed yet another reminder that I should be warm and cozy, cuddling up to a still sleeping Jon.
While getting over my jealousy I begin rummaging through my drawers and closet for something to wear. I grab a pair of jeans, tank top, and button-up blouse and head for the shower. I quickly lather, rinse, hop out, towel dry, and get dressed. I'll check the clock and of course I'm running late so it's time to pick up the pace. I head back into the bathroom and brush my teeth, spit twice, and start combing through my hair. I spritz on a little hair gel, give it a couple of good scrunches, and then pull out the makeup bag. I've never been one for wearing a lot of makeup so I swoosh a powder brush over my nose, forehead, and chin in a failed attempt to cover up my freckles. I dab on some mascara and cherry lip smackers, shove two hair barrettes into my pocket and I'm done.
I head into the bedroom, shake Jon awake and kiss him goodbye. I grab two bottles of water, my tote, and slip my feet into a pair of sandals. At 7:40 I am walking out the door.
If any of these events happen out of sequence my entire day is thrown out of whack resulting in a moping, irritable, and dismal self--much like I was today.
I abruptly woke up to realize that I was the only one in bed. It took a few minutes to register, but I eventually remembered that Jon had an early meeting. I vaguely remembered him waking me up and saying something about my library card, but I quickly dismissed it as dream. I threw the covers off of me and began wandering around the house just to make sure he had actually gone, and he had. Kudos for him, but I was weirded out.
As a result I was a little too horn happy during my morning commute. The man in the Audi playing with his PDA at the green light that will only let four cars through, HONK! The three cars that decided to run a red light while I was just edging into the intersection, HONK! The Honda full of teenagers that looked me in the eye and decided to pull out in front of me anyway, HONK! HONK! HONK!
Luckily, myself and everyone who had to face the wrath of my horn made it through our encounter safely, but I wasn't so sure this was going to be possible.
I learned today that when a car full of kids nearly ten years younger than I am flips me off, I do not take it lightly.