I'm asleep -- dead asleep, deeply and wonderfully asleep. And I suddenly hear my neighbor loading up his truck to start the day's work. He's a mason, gets out early and works all day. Right now is the start of his busy season, which will run into November. The guy works hard, and I appreciate that deeply, but he wakes me up every damn day with the loading of his truck. I've asked him before NOT to load the truck in the morning, but perhaps to do it the night before. He says he's too tired to do it the night before, but that he'll try and be more quiet in the morning. I've reminded him that it is against town bylaws to be as noisy as he is before 8 am, and that I don't want it to become an issue with us. He shrugs his shoulders and says the only thing he can try to do is be more quiet. Or is it quieter? It doesn't look right. That's one of those words that can go either way in my mind. But. I digress.
This morning -- I'm sleeping, and there is no quiet.
Rocks. Metal on Metal. Banging, crunching, crashing. And me, cursing.
I get up, pull on my fleecey pants and am ready to march out there and shove my size 10 feet sideways up his ass when I see the clock.
It reads 10:00am.
Uh. Murderous rage... subsiding.
See, it's one thing to wake my ass up at 6:50am. It's another one all together to wake my LAZY ass up at 10am.
And I am suddenly confused. How was it that it is 10am, and I was still asleep. And so was Doug. Had someone drugged us? Were we in a coma that could only be ended by the noise of masonry tools loading onto a flat trailer?
The sky was the first clue -- once again, cloudy and incredibly dark. No rain, but just incredibly deeply grey. This has been the case for four of the last five days of my life. Second clue, my daughter slept at a friend's house last night, so she wasn't here to fight with Geoffrey and give him a hard time at 8am the way she is sometimes inclined. Geoff had quietly woken up, made himself breakfast, and was playing video games. He's still on the couch, playing video games. Nice and quiet. He's starting to get frustrated with this one challenge, and I can hear him groaning and protesting when his character plummets to his death. But for the most part, when Jessie isn't here, he's quiet as a mouse and messy as an elephant (breakfast cereal, milk, unflushed toilet. Nice!)
The dogs never wake me up in the morning with their need to pee. They wait until I am out of bed, and stand at the bathroom door whimpering while I take care of my needs first. Some dogs wake their owners up at 6am with begging and pleading noises until they are taken outside to do their business, and then everyone comes back in and goes back to bed. My dogs would rather sleep along with me, and wake up frantic at 10am.
So my confusion is lessened. I don't like being woken up by noise from the neighbors, but heck... if he didn't wake me up I probably would have slept until noon.
You can file this one under the TMI files if you like. But I thought since I was writing about sleep confusing I'd share it here.
There is this dream I have once in a while.
I dream I'm going to the bathroom, and I can feel myself peeing. I wake up astonished and wonder "did I just pee the bed?" But of course I didn't -- it's just one of those ever-loving wonders of the human unconscious.
I schlep myself to the bathroom and go... the entire time telling myself that indeed I am not in bed and it is okay to pee.
Does anything like this happen to you guys? I am serious -- am I the only one?
So most of today has been spent burning up our phone. This morning a friend called with some disturbing and frightening news, which I shan't address. Suffice to say that even if you're a conservative Republican, you're still subject to the same scrutiny as an Al Qaeda representative. Your free speech is no more valued than anyone else's. That's all I have to say at this point in time. The poor thing.
And then my mom called. Two hours of discussion later, it seems that she and my dad will be moving (most likely) up this way. Not quite this far north, but more near the Cape/Rhode Island area. My husband is shocked. My son is mad because now he won't have a place to stay in New York. I told him it will be nice to see Grandma two hours away instead of five with NYC as a big fat traffic obstacle in the way. He's not buying it.
Now my husband is on the phone with his folks, catching up with news and life out there, seeing as we didn't do vacation with them and they went to Texas and we went to OBX. Listening to him talk makes me want to go back today. Sigh.
So if you're trying to call me, and have been since 11am, you now know why you can't get through.
Anyway -- not much else to report. I'm going to fold some laundry and clean the bathroom. It's nasty. More later.
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