the Village Knittiot

Well, I guess they are. Fantastic, that is.

Unless of course you go to bed cranky on Thursday night — so cranky that you have to breathe deeply and visit your happy place in order to even make it within proximity of the land of nod.

And then you spend the entire night tossing and turning only to be woken from your very light slumber every hour and a half because you keep hearing yourself shout “No!” to no one in particular.

And then when you finally fall into a deep sleep, it is only to have a nightmare that for some ungodly reason has John Voight in it. Yuck!

And then you hear this horrible noise, and part of you thinks it is just a dream. But then you realize, no, it isn’t a dream, it is really happening. In my house. So you jolt out of sleep, but you’re too scared to move. You lay there breathing and listening intently for what seems like 5 hours. Then when you aren’t too scared to move anymore, you wake up your husband — because surely it will help if you both aren’t sleeping. When he asks you if you want him to go check things out, you say no, of course not dodo, because if you learned one lesson in life from scarey movies it is not to go check out strange noises, because if you do, you will die. Also, you don’t know where your cell phone is and then you’ll be all alone in the house. Except, of course, for the body of your dead husband who just had to go look and see what deranged psychopath was making noise in your kitchen. And then you would have to go and look for your cell phone, and then, you guessed it. Dead too.
So he asks you what time it is. It is 4:30 in the morning. You will be getting up in one hour. Not nearly enough time to calm down and go back to sleep for any decent amount of time. So you get up. What else are you going to do? About an hour later you finally figure out that the scarey noise in the kitchen was only your coffee maker, which not only turns on automatically (at 4:15 a.m.), but grinds the beans before it brews your perfectly roasted coffee and pours it into the nice thermal carafe. I used to think of it as better than a mere coffee pot, more like a special morning friend. Now, I am pissed off at my special morning friend, but in a totally passive-aggressive way. I still need the coffee pot. It knows it. I know it. And there we are at an impasse.

So you stumble through the morning. You got up early so you should have gotten a ton of stuff done. But you poked a bit at the computer. You picked up a few pairs of underwear and put it in the laundry. Then you sat down, just for a couple minutes, to try to untangle a pile of yarn that had somehow gotten a little out of control. Before you know it, it is 6:45 (almost an hour later, and 15 minutes before you need to be getting in the shower) the pile of yarn has grown. It is definitely more tangled than when you picked it up. There is no way you will even get this one thing done. So you do the sensible thing. You put the yarn down, and you have a good cry. That way, you can get it out of the way. Move on. Enter your day fresh. Put it all behind you. Have a great day. It is, after all, Friday. The happiest day of the week.

This worked for a good couple of hours, but you forgot about work. You forgot that whenever work can shit on your day, it will. So when the incompetent “office manager” (read glorified secretary who can’t use a computer to save her fucking life) tries to pawn another project off on you because, well, “You know computers,” you have to keep yourself from leeping out of your seat to crack her skull against the the filing cabinet. And your boss just stands there in your office not saying anything. You try to defend your boundaries. She pushes. He shuffles his feet and looks down. Guess who’s doing her fucking project?

It is 10:56 a.m. I have exactly 6 hours and 4 minutes to turn this day around. Tonight is date night, and goddamnit if I’m not going to set it all aside and enjoy this evening with my husband, who is also probably tired on account of the being woken up by some crazy nut at 4:30 in the morning.

Boy howdy, I love Fridays!

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 20th, 2004 at 7:08 pm and is filed under this Knittiot Life, this Random Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.