Arguing With Myself At 5 AM
| With so much work going on, I frequently schedule myself to get up at 5 AM, just so I'll have a little extra time to work. But I'm so dead tired in the mornings that it takes a Herculean effort to get myself up and going. Here's the argument that proceeds between the good/disciplined side of myself versus the evil/stay-in-bed side of myself. Get up. Alarm just went off. Nnnnngggh. No, I mean it. Get up. You've got work to do, remember. Noooooooo. Yes you do! You wrote it down last night before you went to bed. 5 AM - work on podcast story ideas. Uuuuuuugh. Tired. Sore. Worked out yesterday. Husband feels soooooooo warm. Want to stay heeeeeeere... Screw that! Get out of bed! You know if you don't get up now, the rest of your day is going to be shot! But I don't waaaaanaaaaaaaa... Get the fuck out of bed now, bitch! Make me! Okay, you have to pee. God dammit! (Get up, shuffle to the bathroom. While sitting on the toilet, the argument continues...) Don't fall asleep! You're sitting on the john. But I'm soooooo tired... WAKE UP! You have to go to work! Nnnnnnnnnngh... If you wake up, you can have a nice hot cup of tea. Don't want tea... Yes you do! Now get up! (Trudge out of the bathroom to the bedroom. Stand indecisively, squinting at the bed.) Don't go back to bed! You're up now! Grab the laundry and head downstairs. **You** grab the laundry. I'm going back to bed! No no no! Look, just do a load of laundry! You have to start the laundry if nothing else. Do that and then maybe we can go back to bed. You're lying to me. I know you are. Once the laundry's done, then you're gonna make me do something else. Yeah, probably, but right now, grab the fucking laundry and head downstairs, okay? Fine. And grab your laptop and your writing notebook too. You know, just in case... God dammit! I knew you'd pull this stunt! Just grab the stuff and head downstairs! (Grab the laundry, the laptop, the notebook and trudge downstairs. I set up office in the dining room and start the laundry.) Hey, the cats are up. You should feed them. Because they're cute, you know, and they're hungry and you're a responsible pet owner. Aw man... (Grab the cat food bowls and head for the sink.) Fuck! Michael didn't do the dishes last night! Well do them now! But I'm tired and I want to go back to bed! Just do them! Put the clean ones away, load up the dish washer, feed the cats and you're done. God... While you're at it, start the kettle for some tea. Nooooooo! Tea means staying up! Hey, I didn't say you had to drink it. Just start it. You know, just in case. Fine. Whatever. (Start the kettle. Put away the clean dishes. Load the dish washer.) Crap! The floor is crunchy. Michael didn't sweep last night either. Well do it now then. Otherwise it's gonna drive you crazy all day. Fuck, fuck, fuck. (Grabbing a broom.) I hate how you do this to me. You make me get up and then I have to do stupid chores all morning. Well, they need doing. Unless you like living in a pigsty. That's not the point! You make me do stupid chores until I'm awake and then I have to stay up because I'm awake enough to know I have work to do! Well, you do have work to do, right? But I want to go back to bed! Okay, look! I'm tired of listening to your whiner crap! Who wanted to be a famous writer? You did! Who wanted to have a podcast and a blog and a novel and a short story collection? You did! And don't forget the graphic business, all those perverted graphics you want to draw, and the fifty-bazillion other things you keep thinking you want to do! You can't do these things in your sleep you know! You have to get up and work! So quit with the bitching and the moaning and do the damn work! Fine! I hate you! I hate you too! Are you done cleaning? Yeah... Okay, then. Shall we get to work? I guess... What should we do first? Um... how about a blog post? Aw, fuck that... Oh! Tea is ready... Labels: Write-At-Home Mom |
posted by Helen at 4:56 AM
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