Barely Conscious

August 25, 2009

RAWR. I probably take a nap once every three weeks. My phone sometimes goes the entire day only ringing twice, once in the morning when David calls on his way to work, and once at night when he calls on his way home from work. But somehow every telemarketer, coworker, or friend seems to SENSE that I am napping that one time every three weeks, and calls for no reason whatsoever, or for me to repeat some instructions that they really should’ve remembered. (For instance: please pick up Leila’s immunization records. Like I asked you to two weeks ago. At the same doctor she’s been going to for five years. Not that I am naming any names, there, FI, but really, could you not remember which doctor it is when I just repeated all of these things to you yesterday?)

I do not wake up prettily. I have some crazy reaction when the phone wakes me up–as if it must be someone calling with bad news.  So when I am jerked away from my nap by that shrill ringtone, I am not likely to be happy. In fact, I am likely to become a grumpy bitch.

And now you know what kind of mood I am in.

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