Luna woke me this morning at 2:36. Little devil-child must be growing because she used to never wake up during the night. Now all she does is eat and go back to sleep. Wish I could!
No, once I am up, I am up. I listened to my neighbor come home at three. (What 55 year old Native woman comes home at 3AM? I'll tell you, the one who lives next door to me, Linda does!) I listened to her empty her recycle bin, which must contain solely bottles. I listened to the paperboy come at 5, the quick THAWCK of the paper landing on her stoop.
As the morning progressed, it got light way before the sun came up. And now I am ready for bed again. Too bad I can't sleep on Luna's schedule, which is pretty much any time she wants for as long as she wants. (It usually amounts to about 20 hours a day.)
No, just as I was drifting off, THUMP. The sound of 40 pounds hitting the floor above me. One of the terrors was up, which meant the other would be soon too. Resigned to the idea of getting out of bed at 6, I groan. This wakes DH, who leaps out of bed on a mission to make his coffee.
WHY DOES EVERYONE BUT ME HAVE TO BE SO GODDAM CHEERFUL IN THE MORNING????
I give up. I'm making pancakes and sausage for the beasts. I'm drinking coffee. Maybe I will find some motivation at the bottom of this cup. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.
It might be a nap day, that being said.
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