That's pretty much the first thing I feel some Saturday and Sunday mornings while lying in bed. You'd think I'd be resting my head softly on my pillow, little puddles of drool slowly forming beneath my chin while my cat gently snores on top of my head. And sometimes this is the case - but I usually have to beg for the privilege of this undisturbed peace. What is the source of this weekend morning rage?
Wine Guy of course.
Now, when I wake up on a Saturday morning and WG is still asleep, here's what goes through my head. Be very quiet. Let him sleep. He's so cute when he's sleeping. And if he stays asleep for a little bit longer, I'll get some extra "me time" to read, channel surf or just enjoy a quiet morning.
Neither of us are the type to sleep until noon but I am willing to admit that I am a much bigger fan of sleep than Wine Guy. In fact, it might just be my favorite hobby. Have a couple free hours on a Sunday afternoon? Take a nap. Absolute heaven to me.
Wine Guy clearly doesn't get it. Nor do I get him when it comes to sleep. He stays up til all hours doing absolutely nothing, comes to bed at 3am and manages to function off 4 hours of sleep the next day. Me - I need 8 hours minimum. A few nights without my minimum in a row and I can guarantee you I'll get sick or, at the very least (and often worst), really cranky.
I suspect that Wine Guy's late nights are motivated by the same thing that keeps me nice and quiet in the morning. Time alone. But I think he likes the time alone from the entire world, when everyone is asleep at home, on the block, in the city. But if he's awake at 9am on a Saturday morning? Forget about it.
What's even more annoying is how he chooses to "inadvertently" awaken me. It's usually with some inane chatter to his cat. Then to my cat. Then to both cats. Usually about me. After a few minutes of praying to god that he'll give up and shut the hell up soon I'll quietly say "shhhhhhh..." hoping he'll understand that I'm not quite ready to wake up.
That rarely works. When it does I usually pay the price in jealousy because he'll leave the room and the house and go get some amazing coffee and breakfast pastry that I don't get to enjoy because, well, I was asleep. Jerk.
But usually my shushing just encourages him. Now I'm playing along with whatever cute cartoonish dialogue he has created between him and the cats. It can be cute, granted. But by NO MEANS is it cute in this moment.
And here it comes. the Rage.
He freakin' knows I hate this. Everyone who has ever lived with me (boyfriend, friend, mother) is well aware of the "Don't wake DT" rule. Really, there is NOTHING important enough to wake me. Not a phone call. Not a pretty bird sitting outside the bedroom window. Not even my cat doing something adorable. Nothing.
He's been warned. Hence, I am fully justified to be full of rage.
I try not to yell. Who wants to wake up yelling? But it usually comes out as a mumbling whine, "Whhhyyyyy???" This only encourages his playfulness. I should know better being the youngest of four children. Whining only makes it worse.
Today was the last day of our holiday "staycation" and I made sure to point out to WG that today was also our last day to sleep in before real life begins again on Monday. This was my warning to him. Let me sleep dammit. Overall he'd been pretty good on the break, mostly because he stayed up so freakin' late every night while I went to bed at a reasonable hour.
He did not take my warning. But he foiled my rage in what I can only call a brilliant maneuver. He bypassed all the cute cat talk - that charm wore off months ago. Instead, he went upstairs, picked up the dog (who weighs almost 50 pounds and is not allowed to venture downstairs where the cats live -nor does she want to), carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed next to sleeping little me.
I felt something placed next to me and rolled over, prepared to spew venom - IT'S THE LAST DAY OF VACATION! LET ME SLEEP!
But there, cowering next to me and clearly overwhelmed by not only entering the cat's lair but getting to lie on the coveted bed next to her mommy, is Luna. How could I possibly be mad about that?
I suspect Wine Guy is aware of his brilliant move. I've tried to counter it by saying, "You know, it's very confusing to the dog to be brought down here after being made well aware she is not allowed downstairs." But I suspect his desire to wake me up so we can begin our weekend day together is too strong to be counteracted by basic doggie discipline.
I guess it can be considered training for having kids one day. From what I hear, sleep is something you used to get to do before they came along and ruined everything. I just didn't expect Wine Guy to be on their side so soon.