Mish Mash, Alarm Clocks, and the Integrity of the Universe

I'm sitting here at my computer, in my small coastal New England town, wondering when the snow will arrive and how soon they'll decided to close school.

I stocked up. I have plenty of cream for my coffee and ice cream for my sweet tooth. We don't need dinner, right?

I don't have any tequila, though. I suppose there is time to go out and get some, but I really don't anticipate a need. I know, pathetic, right?

I've asked you twice now, am I right? Ooops, that makes three times.

I have a lot on my mind today, but can't seem to articulate any of it. That would be due to lack of sleep. Over the weekend I battled, and nearly defeated, a nasty head cold. Maybe defeat is the wrong choice of descriptor. It has sort of left and mostly taken up residece in my husband's head. My husband's snoring head. Big congested snoring head.

Paints a pretty picture, doesn't it?

That noise you heard in the middle of the night last night? That was him. Snoring. Ripping right through the fabric of the universe. And the delicate tissue of my ear drum.

After considering various methods of quieting him, I decided jail was not a good choice for me and  moved down a flight to the comfort of the couch. I think I managed about three solid hours before he woke me up and sent me off to bed since he was off to the shower and a very early train into his metropolis of choice. As I just barely drifted off into the bliss of sleep, in the comfort of cool sheets, his alarm went off. Blaringly loud with an undercurrent of radio chatter. After attempting to beat the crap out of it, the damn thing stopped and I drifted off again.

Unfortunately for me, I had hit the snooze. Yep, barely asleep when, alas, more blaring and radio chatter white noise. It was deafening and I couldn't understand why it didn't wake the entire neighborhood. At this point it was about 4:30am, I had about three hours of rest with a few odd minutes thrown in for good measure. I was exhausted and fantasizing about the amount of damage I could do to a clock radio. Would throwing it across the room cause damage to the wall? I'll never know for, as I lay there in fear of falling asleep lest I be so awakened again, the man himself appeared and I mumbled something about the "fucking alarm". I heard him say "I'm very sorry" and I drifted off into a haze of congested sleep.

Until about an hour and a half later when my alarm announced that it was time to rise and wake the boy.

I rose. Went into his room. Lay down on his bed, put the comforter over me, and dozed off. He didn't seem to mind as he was in no hurry to get up.

I got through the morning pretty well. The hot shower helped. It's all starting to catch up with me now and I'm hurting.

I'll just have to make sure I go to bed first. That way when my husband goes back to tearing holes in the universe, I'll be able to sleep through it. And rest well in the knowledge that the powers-that-be will cancel school by 6:00am and I can sleep in.