Monday, 9 May 2011

I miss girlie sleepovers

In case you didn't already know, Anxiety Disorders often make it very difficult to sleep.  SHOCKER. 

To make matters worse, I awake at 6:11 this morning to the sound of bastard squawking crows outside my goddam window.  Effers.  (Maybe I need to reintroduce the Annadanna Scarecrow...)

I don't really care if I am off work for mental rehabilitation... 6:11 still effing sucks

So I'm laying there, trying to ignore the hideous Cah-CAW! CAW! and it suddenly occurs to me...  Random thought out of nowhere... We can't go to Hometown this Friday!  Hubby as a concert this Friday!

So that sudden realization stresses me right out, and makes the possibility of falling back to sleep unlikely.  So I just lay there, pretending. 

Until I hear Hubby reach over to check his phone.  I sleepily look at him, and he smiles...

Hubby:  "Oh, hi Honey."
Me:  *mumbling* "We can't go to Hometown this Friday.  Your show is Friday."
Hubby:  *grunt*
Me:  *trying to go back to sleep*
Hubby:  *leaning over to check his phone - again*
Me:  "You dummy.  Quit it."

I know what he's stressing about.  He's waiting for a message from his guitar guy, confirming the order of his new very expensive amazing guitar. 

So now we're both wide awake, and the most ridiculous mood strikes.

No, not that.  Mind out of the gutter please.   

We can't believe it's so early.  It's like high school on the morning of the annual Canada's Wonderland amusement park field trip. 

Or like we're two giddy teenage girls (?) at a sleepover when the sun is coming up, and you know you should go to sleep but you're way too hopped up on Fuzzy Peaches and Jolt Cola for any hope in hell of passing out. 

Well that's how I feel anyway - laughing childishly and marveling at the sunrise, and wishing it was that easy to wake up every Monday morning. 

Hubby, on the other hand, is mostly concerned with:
  • his phone
  • getting a drink of water
  • complaining that the water cups smell funny
  • finding Tuxedo, and 
  • sitting up, leaning over the headboard, and looking out the window in an attempt to identify whichever stupid neighbour kid is dribbling a basketball, and whichever noisy car is blaring the radio. 

Eventually I drift back to sleep, but Hubby is having nothing of it. 

Hubby: "I have to get up.  I'm starving!"

And so our day began at 6:11 today.  *giant yawn*



  1. I wish I was off work for "mental rehabilitation." Well, I guess technically I am. But here we just call it "unemployed."

  2. I totally made up the term "mental rehabilitation". I'm really just on sick time - and it will run out. But don't stress me!!!

  3. In high school, my best friend and I more than once found ourselves up all night with dawn on the horizon. We always liked to think we'd just skip going to sleep until the NEXT evening, and would usually pass out around 7 am.

    Also - "mental rehabilitation" is a perfectly cromulant use of sick time. I've had to do that as well at certain points in my life.

  4. I used to try having those moments with my hubby, just laying in bed and trying to talk, but he would either start snoring or jump out of bed to start the day. Men! ;)

    We had a neighbor play basketball at the buttcrack of dawn almost every weekend and it made me stabby.

  5. Angela - For sure! The all-nighter was a requirement of the girlie sleepover. As we got a bit older alcohol became a requirement for the all-nighter.

    Elle - "the butcrack of dawn" lol. We live on a little dead-end, and our bedroom faces the front, so we can hear EVERYTHING on the street. Stabby indeed.

  6. Damn crows. Despite the fact that you and hubby seemed to be on two different pages so early in the still sounded like a not-bad way to wake up on a Monday!

  7. early morning birds are assholes

  8. jacqui - It's true. We had fun!

    steph - I was thinking of you when I was writing this - didn't you write about early morning asshole birds recently?