The Snooze Button

If you ask my husband, he would probably tell you that he gets up at 5:30 every morning. However, this morning (and a great many other mornings) went more like this:

5:30am My husband’s alarm goes off. He hits the snooze button.

5:39am He hits snooze again.

5:48am He hits snooze again.

5:57am He hits snooze again.

6:06am He hits snooze again. I tell him to get his butt out of bed.

Needless to say, I don’t like waking up like this every morning. It makes my dreams go all wonky and robs me of my last little bit of uninterrupted sleep. No, I won’t lie – I love that half hour when I have the bed to myself.

I need my sleep. I lost the ability to rock the day on less than 8 hours somewhere around my 18th birthday. When I don’t sleep – and sometimes even when I do – I am cranky, despondent, and very difficult to deal with.

I rolled out of bed this morning around 6:45am. I like to leave the house at 7:15 in order to drop my daughter off at school, get coffee, and make it to work by 8am. Clearly, that just wasn’t going to work. I ended up leaving the house at 7:40, but had to come back to find my phone because I was scheduled for a Skype conference call this morning. Turns out the phone was in my purse the whole time. Already late, I stopped for coffee anyway and made it to work at a leisurely 8:30am.

TGIF? I have to work tomorrow, so this really isn’t even my Friday. I need a vacation.


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