Yep...I am PRETTY sure THIS is what went dragging out of my room this morning with backpack in tow....

It’s no secret within  my circle of friends and family that I have some serious issues with sleep. In fact, sleep and I have an almost love/hate relationship the equivalent of Pepe Lepu and the evasive kitties he so affectionately and obsessively chased…only I am stinkin’ Pepe!  Ah! The mysteries of love…..yeah, well for me, I use the time awake to think of sick plots to make the boys’ lives as miserable as possible while they still live under the parental roof (at least that’s what they believe). In reality, I am almost ashamed to say, but since I am writing under complete anonymity, I will admit I lead an even sicker and boring life…..(drum roll, please)……I am addicted to old Tom and Jerry reruns and WordPop on my ipad. Hey, it could be worse, I could be eating Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia out of the carton while stuffing my face with last year’s Girl Scout Cookies that I just so happened to find at the bottom of the deep freezer (where I accidentally on purpose hid them from the bottomless pits) while walking on a treadmill wearing one of those plastic sweat producing suits….I’m just saying….

Okay, focus, Ophelia…

So, I have a friend who has little ones who wake up with the sun, well, not really……they wake up BEFORE the sun, but she has them almost trained not to make a lot of noise or roam the house until “it’s a nice day,” meaning until the sun is up….pretty cool idea. (Score one for MOM!)  And well, because they are little, she has to get up with them too…A mom can’t have little cookie monsters running through the house in undies with finger paints in one hand and little debbie snack cakes for breakfast in the other, ya know…..(DOY) Usually, my friend sends me funny facebook messages about what little Cookie Monster Girl or Miss Merry Sunshine has done in the morning because she knows that more than likely my eyelids were finally sewn closed by the tiny little sleep fairies that decided to have mercy on my family.

This particular day, however, my dear friend, Constance, was in for a treat! I was up at o’thirty in the morning and boy! was I in rare form. And I was up for a wonderfully colorful chat.  Why? Would one ask…The only way this can be described is by using the conversation itself:

Friend:  “Why are you up so early?? You haven’t been sleeping well the past few days.”

Me:  “UMMM…..water on-water off; tap, tap, tap; water on-water off; tap, tap, tap; drawer open-drawer close; dog tags and chain jiggle jiggle- jiggle…the sound of Velcro name tags and rank violently being removed from the uniform (SCCRRAATTCHHH about a trillion times)…drawer open-drawer closed; bed flounced upon and I was catapulted into the air as if I were on a half-filled waterbed whilst he commences to haphazardly yanked on his socks. Then, a loud announcement of, “Ophelia, Honey, I am only going to hug you because I have been sick and I have been up and down all night and I hope I didn’t keep you up.” (DOY!!!) Then the bedroom door is opened with so much force one would think the room was being searched by the Federal Drug Enforcement Agency……then the door is closed as if an angry teenager was told he couldn’t have the car keys to take his girlfriend to the movies.

Not to mention the door opened again not ten minutes later as if the police were bursting into the room to bring in America’s Most Wanted because he forgot his backpack. Let’s not begin to discuss the noise produced from the plastic closure and the strap on the bag being dragged across the floor before the pack was loudly heaved with a wheeze to his back and he walk out of the room dragging his feet like Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I suppose I am being rather dramatic with my descriptions, but with entertainment like this in the morning, there is absolutely NO WAY on Earth I would EVER attempt to try to sleep in.”

Friend:  (Laughing) “You have to write a book about this mess….It’s seriously funny (but not).”

Me:  “Yeah, I know. I should really write when I am in this mood–thing is, I never finish anything, so I’m pretty sure I’d piss my agent and my publisher off and get sued to repay the monies the publisher fronted me and my agent would have some sort of lawsuit to take my house, my dog, and my Ford Pinto from me……”

“…………Hey, is that my car being driven away??”

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