Saturday. That’s my day to sleep in. My one day every week when I don’t have to wake up for any specific reason. No work. Noah’s at his mom’s house. It’s my one and only chance to catch up. To come back from behind.
And it pretty much never works out for me.
Sometimes it’s a housefly that ruins it. The damned thing will keep buzzing around my head, landing on my nose, bouncing off of my lips, or getting caught behind the blinds. At first I just lazily swat at it, trying to hold onto my sleep. Each time I do, the fly becomes more and more anxious to anger me. Within about fifteen minutes, my adrenaline is peaked, I’m standing on my bed with a hand towel, and I’m screaming obscenities while I try and murder the little bugger. At that point, there’s no way I can fall back asleep.
Other times it’s the telephone. Usually around 8 am. The last one I had was from a friend that I hadn’t seen in months. “Hey Dan, I was just wondering if you know how to use this video software that I just bought.” I’m never nice to anybody when I get woken up early. I passively aggressively pointed out the time and told him I’d be happy to discuss it after ten, still hoping to fall back asleep. At that point, there’s no way I can.
One time it was the smoke alarm. The basement renters had burnt some toast or something, setting off every alarm in the house. There was definitely no falling back asleep after that.
Sometimes it’s a knock on the front door. Last Saturday it came at 8:30 AM. It was an “under-privileged” twenty-something year old from Brooklyn trying to sell me magazine subscriptions to save his life and keep him and his entire family off the street. I told him I’d like to subscribe to “Get off my Porch” magazine and shut the door. I tried to go back to bed, but it was a lost cause.
Sometimes it’s my alarm clock, and it’s my own damned fault. I forgot to turn it off the night before. I usually go through a few snooze cycles and then finally get out of bed, only to then realize it’s Saturday morning. I then curse even more. I stamp my feet. And, the ability to sleep is gone.
Another time it was my birds. They started screaming louder than I’d ever heard them scream. Something was wrong. I went downstairs and realized all of their water bottles were bone dry. Again, my own damned fault.
Sometimes it’s my dog. His bladder doesn’t always agree with my sleeping-in. It doesn’t matter if I walk with my eyes clamped shut; going up and down the stairs wakes me up.
There are other reasons. All of them completely random.
I just have one request. Let me sleep in! Just once. I honestly can’t remember the last time I was able to.
This is my Saturday’s post. I post it before I go to bed each night. Let’s try this again universe. The birds are fed and watered. The dog is freshly pottied. The phone has been switched to silent. It’s too early in the season for house flies. My alarm is off. There is a big sign on my front door that says “knock and die.”
It’s go time.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing