Saturday Morning

Here is one reason why living in my grandma's basement is not so otimo:

The Scene: It's saturday morning, I got home a little bit late last night, the noisy furnace woke me up around 3am and I couldn't fall back asleep until around 5:00 AM. Now I'm sleeping like a log, or perhaps like a rock; I'm sleeping like the dead; I'm sleeping like a baby; heck, maybe I'm sleeping like a dead baby on a log under a rock... I'm sleeping really well.

8:00 AM rolls around and Grandma yells down to me, "DUSTIN!" startling me awake and out of my lovely well-earned slumber.

Dazed and confused, I yell back, "YEAH?!"

Grandma replies, "ARE YOU AWAKE?!" In my head I'm thinking two things; 1) "No, I'm asleep, I yelled back to you unconsciously just then." and 2) "Well, I wasn't a few seconds ago, but thanks to you I am now!"

I am thinking these things, but all I say back is, "... KIND OF!"

She then goes on muttering something like, "Oh, I wasn't sure if you were home or not... yadda yadda yadda."

Now I'm thinking, "well, one clue that I'm home is that my car is back in front of the house... and my bicycle is also still here... and you probably would have heard me get up and take a shower if I were awake already..." And then I lie there in bed awake and annoyed for a few minutes until I realize that going back to sleep will no longer be a possibility for me, so I get out of bed.

This is only a few minutes after she asked me if I am awake, she then yells, "ARE YOU IN THE SHOWER?!"

Now I'm thinking, "do you hear the shower running? The answer is no." I say, "NO!" She then calls me upstairs because she has to tell me something important before she has to go to wherever she's going. The important news is: "Here is my brother's email address. Please email him today to ask about wedding pictures because he says that the pictures they took turned out well." She then proceeds to try to explain to me that I can print them out, and how she can't get the pictures because she doesn't have email and how her brother already sent them to her other sister and so on and so forth... Grandma, I understand.

That's what my saturday mornings are like these days. I guess it's just as well though because I have sooo much to do today I probably didn't have time to sleep in anyway...

Speaking of working on the weekends, here's a fun little french song by Pink Martini called Sympathique which I think means something like "nice." One of the lines in the song goes, "je ne veux pas travailler" which I think means, "I don't want to work." I agree!