The Rantings of a Day Sleeper

I worked last night and didn't get to bed until almost 11am this morning which put me up right at 23 hours.  Gene told me he'd be out running errands all afternoon so I could have a quiet house.  Imagine the dead sleep I came out of at 2:30pm when the door bell rang twice, each time multiple times.  I laid there for a second trying to wrap my head around that strange noise that had just infiltrated my dreams.  Then I heard a strong long knock.  And another. And another. And another. At that point I jumped out of bed, threw clothes upon my naked body, which is harder than one would think when you're functioning on about two brain cells and both of those were still trying to nap but with that much knocking I immediately assumed something was wrong with a neighbor or something. It had to be someone who really needed to talk to me.  Now.  Another long hard knock sounded. I literally ran down the hall and skidded around the corner into the living room to see two bicycles in my driveway and in the front door window the shoulder of a white shirt and the black strap of a backpack of an LDS missionary turned away from the door.

Now, don't get me wrong here. I love the LDS missionaries and get a big hoot out of those boys. I also love the LDS church and when I go to church that's the door I choose to walk into on Sunday. I have nothing but respect for the LDS church and every wonderful thing it/they are and do.

But don't screw with my sleep, man.  That's just not cool.

They didn't see me so I pivoted and came back to the office.  I've sat here listening three more times to the loudest knocking that I've ever heard in my life.  One of those boys must have knuckles made of granite.  I know it was rude of me to ignore them but I figured rudeness was the better choice between that and, say, opening the door and popping their little heads off like Pez dispensers.

But it's not just them. Sigh.  As soon as I climbed back into bed and changed the satellite from Sirius "Love Songs" to "Songs of the 70's", my favorite two sleeping channels, the phone rang. It was my state governor, Matt Blunt, inviting me to participate in I know not what because I picked up/hung up on his butt with a mental note to have Gene turn the answering machine volume down.  I could try it but I'd only end up somehow deprogramming the VCR or the garage door opener in the process.  I'm about as good with electronics as any ninety year old geezer.

After I mentally told the governor where he could shove the state, I crawled into bed once more and closed my eyes. The phone rang again.  It was the American Heart Association calling to ask me for money.  I left that one on the machine.  I figure I'm already going to hell for ignoring church missionaries and refusing to ask not what I could do for the state. I figured I didn't need to compound it with screaming at a charity phone volunteer.

Well hell.  I'm up now. Guess I should go check my garden pots and see what I lost in the near-frost the last two nights since I forgot to cover them up with a sheet....

Comments

[sher]

There were so many fun images as I read that post: you skidding around the corner, and popping the heads off those lads were my favorite. :):)

Hope you get some sleep!

[Glenna]

Sher--Thanks! It was funny as soon as I wrapped my funny around it and got over being pissed. :-) I didn't go back to sleep until last night but it got me back in a regular sleeping groove so that was good.

[Glenna]

Sher--Thanks! It was funny as soon as I wrapped my funny around it and got over being pissed. :-) I didn't go back to sleep until last night but it got me back in a regular sleeping groove so that was good.