Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Rude Awakenings

Aren’t there certain ways of waking up that make you crazy?

For me, a child whispering “Mom” 2 inches from my ear is guaranteed to send me from REM sleep to the ceiling in no time flat. For getting me upright from dead sleep, just start the heaving noises made by a 100 pound dog who has eaten something that’s on its way back up.

Those are probably my top two least favorite methods of regaining consciousness from sleep.

(OK – waking up with the police helicopter lights flashing in my back yard wasn’t good either – but at least then I knew someone better armed than I was on the job.)

I’ve been doing a little introspection lately and in doing so chose my favorite room in the house. (It was a toss up between Chaos [the home of Kits and Caboodles] and the library.) It was close, but the library won out, only because Chaos is a bit snug. Anyway, I decided that since I had it, I was going to use it for more than storing books and as a pass through for arriving guests. The afternoon called me to spend some time reading so after the required housework and lunch I hit the couch in the library. A few chapters later it was time for a snooze. (Not because of lack of interest in the book – I’ve just been lacking sleep lately!) Holly’s arrival made it official and I snuggled in. After 30 minutes of dozing in and out I was jolted awake.

A diesel engine roaring, vibrations moving through the foundation of the house , screeching breaks, air pressure from some hydraulic system – it was like the military had arrived and was locking down the neighborhood. I thought perhaps Mr Nobama had won the election and he and his old friends from the weather underground were taking over the country.

After a moment of lucidity, I realized what was happening. You see, I’m rarely in the front of the house. The traffic patterns and noise of our street are totally foreign to me. I also live in my own happy little place, and forget about things that the rest of the world think are normal.

It was a yellow child-eating monster. It had nibbled up its breakfast earlier in the day, delivered it to the stomach of local institutions for further digestion, and was now puking out the remains.

I now have three least favorite methods of waking.

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