Just Go Back to Bed
Today is one of those days when I just know the gods are telling me to go back to bed. The very fact that I am (semi)vertical and writing this they’ll probably see as some affront and, getting pissed, they’ll make my day worse. And that would take some effort, I can tell you.
It all started last night, at about 3am or a bit after. I was happily asleep when my slumber was ended by the “glick-hack-glick” sound all cat owners know all too well. Benito was crapped out between Christopher and me–this noise was coming from Baldrick. It sounded particularly, um, wet and clearly in the narrow hallway outside our bedroom. I knew if I didn’t get up then, I would forget about it when I got up in the morning and almost assuredly step in it on the way to get my morning coffee. As my bladder had also realized that I was conscious at this point, I got out of bed and gingerly tip-toed down the hall to get paper towels for the de-yakification.
I managed to avoid the goo on the floor on my way, and came back to clean up a nasty pile o’ cat-sick. Into the garbage it went, and, after a pee, I crawled back into my warm bed where husband was still blissfully asleep and Benito was waiting.
Right after I got into bed, Benito deided he needed a good licking before going back to sleep. He’s rather noisy about that, particularly when he’s curled up at my head, so I had to wait for him to finish before really trying to fall back asleep. He did, and I tried and it was at that moment that Christopher rolled over onto his back.
Now, for those of you who don’t live with snorers, you’ll not get what the “rolling onto the back” means to those of us that do. It means that a sound is about to come out of your bedmate, the likes of which, if made when conscious and in public, would result in the offender being locked up for some form of public indecency. I’m sure if a kid was nearby, child endangerment would be added.
So there I am, just starting to drift back to happy nappyland when this mix between Felix Unger’s sinus hoot and a world-class loogie-hocking set at “11″ hits my eardrums. My eyelids flip up like roller blinds, just like in cartoons.
I hate to bug Christopher while he’s sleeping. I mean, it’s not like he’s doing this deliberately, but there is no way to fall asleep when that happens. So, I gently nudge him and say “Hon, you need to roll over.” He doesn’t roll, but the noise stops.
Unfortunately, it only stops just long enough for me to almost fall asleep again. This time I nudge him harder and say “Really, you need to roll.” Which he does after a few grunts (which surprisingly end with “love you”) and peace returns to the bedroom.
By this time, my brain has been fully activated and getting back to sleep is a bear. I finally do, but I have no idea how long this takes. All I know is that the alarm is buzzing and it’s time to get up. I actually hit the snooze, which I never do, but then again, I never sleep to the time the alarm goes off anyway.
But I don’t actually fall back asleep. I’m awake, and my body is not happy about it. I feel like hammered shite. All I can think is “coffee” and so I slog myself to the kitchen where I am sure our trusty coffeemaker is waiting with that black elixer that cures all morning ills. We have one with a timer, the greatest invention ever, I think, and last night Christopher took care of setting it so that in the morning there would be…
…nothing. He forgot. This is not good. Somehow I manage not to go back into the bedroom and throttle him, but I do go and wake him as usual, though without his morning coffee in hand. I gently wake him, then explain why I have no coffee for him. His “d’oh!” would rival one of Homer’s best. And I go back into the kitchen to make the coffee.
I turn on the water and this tiny trickle comes out the faucet. We usually have good water pressure, so I’m unhappily surprised. We have a filter mounted on the faucet, so I thought maybe it was backed up. I go to the bathroom, turn on the sink faucet, and it too is down to almost nothing.
Crap.
The whole house has severely reduced water pressure and Christopher is asking where the water heater is because his shower isn’t working right. I tell him it’s the whole house and check the news to see if there’s a water main break or something. I don’t find anything and I don’t see any leaks anywhere in or outside, so I try calling the water department’s emergency line. When the phone connects, I hear a message saying that after hours calls are transferred to a dispatcher and “please hold.” That is followed, in not even two seconds, by the sound of being disconnected entirely.
I try again. And again. I try the number for people in other areas. And other other areas. Nothing but disconnects. And this is the emergency number. Great.
I don’t want to make coffee, but I do because Christopher must have some and he doesn’t care if there’s a break and the water is possibly contaminated. I don’t drink it. Finally, at about 7am the local news reports a massive water main break in Linda Vista. Not our neighborhood, but it was probably the cause of our troubles.
I head out to the grocery to buy water to make my coffee, and Christopher goes to work. When I get back, my neighbor is pulling out of his driveway. Just to be sure, I ask him about his water. Yup, theirs was messed up too, “but it just came back on about a minute ago.” Sigh.
I still make my coffee with the bottled water, just in case.
So, my morning routine has been utterly shot to hell–no workout, no relaxing bagel with the headlines on GMA or the Today show, and very little sleep. Just an all-around lousy morning.
Worst part is I can’t figure out what I did to make the gods hate me this much in the first place. But I’m not taking any chances…I’m lying low for the rest of the day.