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Early to Rise, My Ass… Or Rather, Their Asses

Man, I am wiped.

As many of you already know, I’m not exactly what you’d call a ‘morning person’. Or an ‘afternoon person’, really. I’m more of an ‘after-dinner person’. Or perhaps a ‘quarter after ten at night person’. Sometimes even an ‘up till three in the morning for no damned good reason person’.

But ‘morning person’? Decidedly not.

And that’s why I’m so poopered right now. You see, the wifely one and I are having some work done on the house. It seems to involve a troupe of large, burly men hanging around our living room comparing ass-crack plumage. I think it may have something to do with pliers, too, and possibly caulk. It’s all over my head, frankly.

(Except for the ass-cracks, unfortunately. At least if those were over my head, I wouldn’t have to stare at the damned things. Man, I could have gone my whole life without seeing that.)

Anyway, the pomp and pageantry of the plumbers cracks is not, sadly, the main issue I have with our current situation. Rather, the problem is that these cracks, and the cranky asses they’re attached to, show up on our porch at the very ass-crack of dawn. Or thereabouts. Before eight am, anyway, and that’s damned early enough.

Now, I can handle this sort of early morning chicanery once in a while. I have nine am meetings twice a week, and — as much as I hate them, and anything that’s said in them, and anyone who speaks during them, and the very fact that I’m awake to witness them — I am able to cope with them. Twice a week. But that’s my limit.

So, now that I have to not only be awake, but showered, dressed, and marginally functional while herds of carpenters and plumbers roam the sweeping hallways of my house like so many flannel-clad wildebeest, I’m struggling a bit. This is the second full week of this nonsense, and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I finally let go this afternoon, and took an impromptu and unplanned nap on my keyboard at work. Lemme tell you, folks, you simply don’t know ‘tired’ until you’ve woken up at your desk, with drool on your space bar and an ‘Escape’ key up your nose. Yeeks.

Anyway, those guys oughta be done pretty soon. I’m hoping to actually get some rest this weekend, assuming I make it that far. On the other hand, my mother-in-law is coming into town on Friday, so there’s just one more reason to get all sleepless and agitated. At least she’s not likely to hang around the living room with her ass creeping out of her pants. Not before her second glass of wine after dinner, anyway. Double yeeks. Double yeeks, indeed.