Mornings. I hate mornings

Starting each morning is something we all do each and every single day of our lives.

Wow. That is profound. For me. Because it is only a little bit after 8 am, and, well, frankly, my mind is almost but not entirely totally unlike awake.

This is going to be under the category of what my 17 year old daughter would call “T. M. I.” (tooooo much info); however, I start my day by the following.

Get out of bed, hit the snooze. (It is approximately 10 feet from my bed to the alarm site – located on the left of my dresser). Get back in bed. Repeat a lot of times. It took me awhile to find an alarm that was accommodating enough to have
a. a snooze button that was programmable
b. a snooze button that wouldn’t just arbitrarily quit on me
c. a snooze button that didn’t have a preset time to stop snoozing and just shut itself off, thereby allowing me to sleep unsnoozingly for the rest of the morning.
I’d share with my readers the brand etc of the alarm clock, but alas! I purchased it over 15 years ago and I cannot read any of the markings anymore. The volume works, sort of. If you turn it to the exact right spot and leave it alone forever. But – if you try to change it, it won’t work anymore at all. The alarm is a two alarm – er, as it were. You can choose from an annoying bleeeeeeeeep bleeeeeeeep, or music. From the music, you can choose radio, or CD.

I leave it on annoying bleeeeeeep and radio. Any CD I would choose I would LIKE, and therefore subliminally or subconsciously, I probably wouldn’t wake up at all.

Once I have fought the battle to actually get out of bed and STAY out of bed, instead of jumping right back into bed for 10 more minutes ad infinitum, I head immediately to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

I love coffee. BLACK. PLAIN. HOT. I have a coffee pot that grinds the beans all by itself.

The culmination of coffee drinker bliss. Thank you Melitta. THANK YOU! At night, I pour in some Starbucks beans. WHOLE beans. FRESH beans. I add water to the water part. I make sure the pot part is empty. THAT is very important. And you know that I have forgotten to do THAT part because I included it in the previous sentence. THAT is a mess you do NOT want to face when you have just jumped out of bed. Trust me.

I like BOLD African coffee. French or Espresso Roast. The kind of coffee that gives you dragon breath. Too Right.

Into the, well, ya know. Bathroom. Yeppers. But, as a lot of baby boomers, MY bathroom is more of a Haven. I think it is anyway.

It’s largish. About 15 feet by 8 feet. Larger than some bedrooms. We have a master suite, which only means that we have a bedroom which is larger than most, and an attached bathroom that is on the OTHER side of the house from the kidlet area.

This century, I am into a Papa Hemingway decorating phase. So, bathroom is done in genteel African landed gentry.

And decadent as I am, I have color t.v. with digital cable in the bath. And a table for my laptop.

As I get my first cup of coffee, I let the two dogs out into the garage/dog pooping area. We live in a ‘gated community’ which means that even though we own our home, we still have rules. I don’t LIKE that, but it is a compromise I have learned to live with. And, I like my house.

I don’t like one of the dogs, because it belongs to my son, who is a college graduate and unemployed. I want both the son and the dog to move. I love my son, but he will be turning 21 on Saturday. It’s time. Get out.

I call the dog Sir Piss a lot, cause, well, that is what he does. He has a predilection for my ridiculously expensive imported leather sofa. I may kill the dog.

Anyway, dump the dogs in the garage, wake the babies. (The babies are 4 next week and just turned 7).

I am in trouble. School starts in 9 days. WE have to get up at six am during school. It is now 8:30.
I don’t like mornings. Fortunately, the kidlet goes to a private school. They are somewhat forgiving. Not very though. She is late a lot. They cut me slack, see I am a GRANDMOTHER who is raising two grandkids. They KNOW I am over 50. Some of THEM are over 50 and I know they are saying….”Oh, that poor woman”.

Damn Skippy. Having to get up at 6 am at THIS age. Pity me!

In the bathroom, t.v. goes on either MSNBC or CNN. Depends on what mood I am in. I don’t particularly LIKE Robin & Co. on CNN, but I also don’t particularly like the way MSNBC misreports the news. So I switch back and forth. Robin of Robin & Co., can get on my LAST nerve. I want a dry, no personality male broadcaster. I want WALTER CRONKITE.

Baby boomers. Sheesh! I don’t want to be entertained. Just tell me the freakin news please.

Laptop on, news on, the reader can only imagine the rest. Coffee next to me, cigarette burning away the good air and my lungs simultaneously. ( I really need to quit that disgusting habit.)

Mornings. I don’t do mornings well. Never have. A good bathroom, t.v., excellent coffee, quiet, a laptop and the news. All those things help.

Have a wonderful day. It’s Monday. With a vengeance.

Life-its NOT like the brochure.