So maybe…

..I might have mentioned once or twice that me and sleep, we have an odd relationship. (Once or twice? More like OBSESSIVELY, I’m sure. Heh.) Sometimes I get enough, but it’s always at odd hours. Sometimes I don’t sleep for a couple days, then crash hard for several blissfully thoughtfree hours. And getting up happily? forgetaboutit!

I’ve always been… um. Difficult. To pry outa bed once sleep has finally settled in. I’m warm, cozy, have finally found the PERFECT position in which to revel in my comfort, still sleepy, and perfectly content to remain bundled up under my comforters, clutching my pillows so g’way and leave me alone dammit! It’s been a longstanding joke (and by joke I mean ‘EVER so annoying to the early morning people in my life’) for years upon years in my family. Hell, for a few years there, my mom called every morning to be sure I got the kids up in time for school! It started because my alarm clock broke, and then just continued, right up until the Boy went into Jr. High and it was deamed WAY TOO EARLY for them to continue to call me. And also, Lessa, Grow up and get yourself outa bed!

So, I had to discover an alarm that would work. I got a clock/radio thing, so that the alarm is different every morning. And also, the volume is up as high as possible. Heh. Over the years this has had a couple noteable amusing results. The most memorable is when I wasn’t paying attention when I checked to be sure it was on the radio station and not all fuzzy and such, and accidently nudged it the .12312312312353123 an millimeter and ended up on the Christian station.

Let me tell you – it brings back many a ‘nodding off in church’ memory instantly when you awaken to some guy on the radio booming “YOU WILL BE SAVED” at the top of his lungs/radio volume level. I sat STRAIGHT up and boomed an “AMEN!” right on back at him. Much to Kevin’s amusement at the time. Old habits, man. Seriously.

That one may have been eclipsed this morning, however. I was dreaming (i think. i can’t remember.) and suddenly, the alarm goes off, and my hand flys toward the snooze button….

…and stops. hovers. hesitates before granting me that ever important extra 9 minutes of sleep. Because it registered what I’d woken up to. A lady, who sounded in my sleep befuddled mind JUST LIKE MY MOM yelling three words.

“DON’T DO IT!”

Nana will be pleased to know that I didn’t hit the snooze for a couple seconds – as it is still ingrained within me, programmed from childhood, to obey my momma!

At least when I’m half asleep. Heh.

(Yes, I eventually hit snooze. three times. this is why I set my alarm early, and my clock 10 minutes ahead. Heh. I’m hopeless.)