Village Squire, 1976-02, Page 20Oh how I hate to get up in the morning!
BY SANDRA ORR
When it comes to getting up in the morning
wish, I was 'one of those people who after
thirty years of going to bed and getting up at
the same time every day have their brain
clocks adjusted. They manage both tasks with
a minimum of trouble. After all, one woulc
think thirty years was long enough to learn
how to get up.
wish it was easy for me.
The first time I wake up, it's six o'clock --too
early --and all of the blankets and seven -
eighths of the bed are covered by a big bump.
I am on the other eighth and I tell the big
bump to move over and it does and I get the
warm spot.
I start to snooze and the rooster comes up
to the bedroom window and cock -a -doodles
the break of dawn. I have visions of the axe
but all that happened was he got his wing
feathers dipped and was confined to hen
quarters. I can still hear him, though.
The next time I wake up, it is
six -thirty --still too early --and the blankets are
ripped out of the bottom and four feet are
sticking out. I try to rearrange them with . a
minimum of fuss (the blankets not the feet)
and hike my own up out of the cold.
If I sleep another fifteen minutes we will be
late and nothing will save us. I lurch upwards;
my head has a large rusty dent between the
ears --like somebody pulled the plug on my
brains and let them oxidate --until my feet hit
the cold floor...
(Expletive deleted), what a shock!
My teeth are covered with fuzz, resembling
the scum that coats the -rocks in stagnant
water.
"Hey, short-order cook. Eggs sunnyside up
and runny...And why don't you wear your
own housecoat? Don't you have one?"
Bad-tempered Beulah whose hair is flat at
the sides and sticking up on top and who
doesn't speak 'til noon has no -answer to this
reasonable request. She can't get her mouth
unstuck.
18. VILLAGE SQUIRE/FEBRUARY 1976
I'll salt the coffee, I think, lifting my lip.
I stagger out to the kitchen and the radio is
going full blast. I have visions of the hammer
but I turn it down instead.
"Where's breakfast?" Whistle, sing.
"My nose and ears are full of material that
would shame a clogged engine," I say, not
delicately. "Get your own ketchup."
There have to be some advantages to
staying in bed, I think as I go at the eggs.
One, it's comfortable.
"Hey, what are you doing? I don't like
scrambled eggs."
Two, it's illicit.
I haven't decided if this is an advantage or
a disadvantage. We pay for the pleasure of
lying in bed, dearly. Besides being thought of
as lazy, it causes all sorts of problems --like
eating too .much for lunch (we didn't have
time for breakfast) and having a case of
heartburn all afternoon, driving too fast to
work and getting a speeding ticket...
"Hey, what's burning?"
A frown from the boss. Raised eyebrows
and- direct glance at the clock from the
secretary.
There's a good case for getting out of bed.
You can learn about all sorts of
non -essentials --the qualities of the sunrises,
for example. When you're holding your eyes
open with toothpicks they seem. as beautiful
as any summer evening.
And maybe today, I'll wake up the intellect
to focus on Captain Kangaroo.
And anyway, I can always go to bed
tomorrow night, maybe a little earlier.
WEXE
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