"Time to get up for school!", I yelled up the stairs.
There was no reply. Unusual for the Boy. He's got "up bright and shiny in the morning" genes from the PiC's side of the family, (in contrast to my "good for nothing before noon" variety.) So, in another minute or two, I tried again.
An answer came down the stairs out of the darkness. "Mom, it's 3:45 AM."
Oh my.
It was a struggle, but I refocused my eyes on the living room clock. Sure enough. It said 3:45 AM. "Sorry, hon'. Go back to sleep."
In some half awake twilight, I was convinced it was 6:30.
Yeah, I've been burning the candle at both
ends. Projects and paperwork are piling up. I guess my body became
accustomed to a couple hours of sleep a night this week. So, it was
easy to confuse getting up to go to the bathroom with getting up
because the alarm went off.
At least he'll have entertaining stories to tell his friends. Whispered confidentially, "You know, my Mom is a psycho." Fodder to share with a future therapist.
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Cheery, eh? We need to figure out today how big a check we have to write to appease the Tax Demons. (As long as you send them beaucoop cash, they really don't care if you don't turn in your forms until next fall.) So, don't be expecting much of me, OK? I'm tapped out. I've got nothing for you. Just thought you should know.
Be happy I didn't show up at your house at 3:45 AM and try to roust you out of bed for the day.