Stolen Morning
Posted on November 21, 2006
Filed Under Uncategorized |
It’s six fifteen AM, and the alarm is blaring. Well, not quite. Blaring is too strong a word. My alarm clock is tuned to CBC Radio One, these days. So, then, my alarm is talking at me. My brain can’t understand what is being discussed on AM radio at this hour, so it sends out a signal that causes me to hit the snooze button.
I rollover and throw my arm, possessively, over Ashley’s body. The CBC guys have woken her up as well, although she seems to slip back into a sound sleep more quickly, and more easily than I do. She pulls my arm into a position she deems comfortable, and falls back asleep. I lie awake for a couple seconds longer, fall asleep.
The CBC morning news crew is talking again. I’m up again. She isn’t. Or maybe she is. I can’t tell. I reposition my arm, fall asleep again.
It’s warm here, and I don’t want to get up, but the voice on the radio is talking about something important. I think he’s talking about the Tory leadership race–the province is set to have a new premier in the not-to-distant future–but I’m unsure. He’s talking about waking issues, and I’m not ready for that quite yet. I shift my weight in bed, and the mattress groans slightly. It’s more of a moan, really, than a groan. A comfortable moan, I think to myself.
I drift into unconsciousness only to be awoken, again, by Mr. CBC. I can comprehend now what it is that he’s talking about. Politics, followed by a weather report that I cut off in mid forecast.
Throw off the sheets.
Sit up.
Stand.
Walk to the washroom.
Shower, shit, and shave.
It’s time to earn another morning.
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