Friday, January 27, 2006
I know without asking that you've had one of those days you wished you'd stayed in bed. We all have.
Have you ever had a day you wished you'd gotten out of bed? Bite my tongue, you say? Funny you say that....
The weather forecast Sunday evening called for the precise amount of snow as 'plowable.' I was able to hit the sack without worrying about whether I'd be taking my truck to work or hitching up the huskies to the sled. With the snowfall set to begin in the wee hours, and the accumulation amounts apparent in time for the morning commute, the storm would move out to sea by the early afternoon.
....Just how much "divine dandruff" would be covering the area, was left to our imagination. There was a lot of ..."If the front tracks here, the low lying areas could receive upwards of..., "but if it dips below here, the coastal areas will bear the brunt..." In a nutshell, the meteorologists didn't have a clue. If either one of the scenarios happened, he or she would be strutting proud as a peacock because they called it right. You know the drill, close as in horseshoes, hand grenades and weather prognostication.
I was awakened to the grinding of metal on pavement. It was like fingernails being drawn against a chalkboard. My eyes fell upon the hazy glow of the green digital numerals across the room on the dresser. Damn, I thought, it was only 11:00! I had just gotten to bed, hadn't I? Au contraire, foolish chum. It was 11 AM!
....I creaked as I maneuvered myself from the bed. The chain of events that happened in the next 10 or 15 seconds was the stuff of nightmares: the stumble against the dog, the awkward attempt at balance that resulted in stepping on the cat's tail, which in turn led to a near fall broken only by grabbing the knob on the door, which in turn began to close, thus carrying me to my right until my fall was broken when my chin finally came to rest on the dresser. The yelp of the dog, the screech of the cat, and my cry of pain from biting my tongue, was racket enough to awaken a neighbor, but not so my wife.
After managing to pull on my pants without further mishap, I limped over to the nearest window to view what winter wonderland was awaiting me outside. The dog was watching me growling, the cat was hissing from a safe perch on the sofa back, and my chin and tongue hurt like hell. At first I was blinded by the white glare when I pulled aside the shade. Judging by the hand rail of the front stairs we'd gotten 3 or 4 inches of the white stuff. The snow was still falling.
Turning on the front burner of the stove and placing the kettle atop it, I made a beeline for the bathroom. For some reason at times such as this, that old Alka Seltzer jingle seems to pop into my head: "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is..."
....The kettle had begun a slow wheeze and it moments it would be whistling angrily. I was pulling up my pants even as I strode to the kitchen. I tugged at the zipper ... Oh, My ... GOD!! F--K!! Why do we get tears when we experience excruciating pain? I fail to see that it ever helps. Fortunately "he" had not been completely relaxed yet and that little bit of rigidity prevented more of him from being eaten by the teeth of the zipper. I was able to undo the damage without too much more pain. No blood had been drawn.
....My wife strolled into the kitchen at about the same time I was guzzling down the last of my coffee. If I'd been quite a bit younger, I would asked for my boo-boos to be kissed. For some reason, that request is not honored when you reach adulthood. It was just one of many things on the list of that lost to childhood.
Yes, I sure wished that I'd gotten out of bed sooner. I should have gotten up at 6:30 like any other week day. I would have been long gone and at work. I would have already had the driveway shoveled and the snow brushed off the cars. I had been taken in - played the sucker. I was robbed! Putting my faith in the weatherman's prediction of "plowable" snow, I stayed in bed anticipating that I'd be getting a late start. Plowable indeed! How was I going to explain why I was late for work? Taking a snow day with a mere three inches of ground cover wasn't going to suffice.
Let's see now, I'd nearly killed myself, pissed off the cat and dog, and jeopardized my sex life ... All because I'd decided to sleep in! I can only conclude that staying in bed is not conducive to one's health. Sleeping in is bad for you.
Curmudgeon responsible for this post: Hale McKay at 12:05 AM