So this was my morning:

I am the new owner of an iPhone thanks to a water attack I launched on my Blackberry night before last. Yes, I spill even in my sleep…

So anywho, last night, I set the alarm on my new phone, and slide off into my restful slumber.

On Fridays, I need to be into work at 7am, but as I opened my eyes this morning, not to the prompting of an alarm, I just knew that it was right around that time. Sure enough, with a glance at my watch it is 6:56.


I throw the covers and pillows off me, no doubt hitting Paul in the face, miss-step getting out of bed, tip into my bed-side table banging it into the wall, and then I manage to stumble over cat and dog into the bathroom to try and get my life together.

Thankfully I was smart last night and piled my clothes in the bathroom so that I could avoid waking up Paul… which I’m sure was a failure after yelling expletives and banging furniture.

I do my best to cover up the gross “Wrath of the Titans” blemish I have going on right in-between my eyes, throw my hair back and race downstairs. Feed cat, grab purse, grab phone, my workout clothes for later, and race out the back door, locking it behind me feeling pretty good about the 6 minute get-ready pace I had just accomplished….then that feeling was shattered with the slam of the locked door when I realized that I failed to grab my keys.

I have uttered exactly 4 words out loud at this point, and none of them are appropriate for primetime television.

We don’t have a hide-a-key, and all doors are solidly locked. Our dog doesn’t bark, and in fact is still sleeping with Paul, so my options are to either break in or somehow get him to wake up.

I call his phone, but we both sleep with our phones on silent, so I know that it is a lost cause. I decide to try and throw stones at our bedroom window closest to him, but there isn’t a lot of room on that side of the house. It is basically a narrow path that separates our house and our neighbor’s driveway, but I hauled off and launched a rock at the window anyway. Making a meager noise, it bounced off and made an even louder noise hitting the windshield of my neighbor’s car.  With a “deer in headlights” glance into all of their windows, I make sure that no one saw or heard before I dart off behind our house.

Plan B: bang loudly on the back door… which was pointless seeing as there is no way he would hear me all the way from the back door, through the kitchen, living room, up the stairs and down the hall way… did I mention that he also sleeps with a fan set to high right next to his head?

Plan C required me to get creative. I needed to throw something non-destructive at the siding on the other side of the house, where the window is in the closet, but a direct shot to his ear, opposite the fan. I remembered that we had a lacrosse ball in the yard, so after scouting it out, I proceeded to hurl it at the siding right next to the window. I couldn’t throw it at the window seeing as it was open, and knowing my luck it would have gone straight through the screen.

4 shots in, while semi-yelling his name in hopes of it being loud enough to reach Paul, but not our neighbors, his face appears in the window.

My favorite part is that he looks at me and just says, “Yeah?”, as if I might be out there for some other reason than needing his assistance. “Oh just down here for some off-hour, romantic gesture… I locked myself out.”

I don’t know why this poor guy stays with me…. every day is like an adventure with the chronically hazardous, and he is always there to fix whatever I have gotten myself into.

He’s a good guy 🙂 And somehow, I was only 20 minutes late to work.

Until my next hazard…


Just a day in the life…

My alarm goes off at 4:45 this morning, but this was after a few hours of unsuccessful sleep. The disruptions came from my precious baby girl, Peyton, wanting to snuggle with me. As stated before, she loves to sleep sprawled across my neck, resting her chin on my face somewhere, normally my eye socket.

Last night, in an effort to get more sleep without her accosting me, I hid under the covers. Poor choice. I have learned that if you try to deny her, she will do everything in her power to achieve her goal. She bats and digs at the covers and proceed to bitch slap me with her fluffy little paw until she gets to her spot. Don’t get me wrong, I love cuddling her, she is so soft and warm, but her purring keeps me awake.

So back to 4:45…alarm goes off, I head to the kitchen to make protein pancakes for my 8 mile run I am about to embark on. I sit at the kitchen table, syrupy pancakes waiting for me, and start to think about how tired I am; I feel like I need an adrenaline needle to the heart to make it through this run.

Peyton, in typical form, jumps up on my lap to bless me with her presence as I eat my breakfast. She nestles in, but within moments decides she needs to stand up to readjust. Something I should note here about Peyton is that she is long-haired, and about 60% of her body mass comes from her tail. I could almost see this all happening in slow motion; she stands up, turns around, sways her tail in happy cat fashion, and bam…tail lands on my plate and sways back LOADED full of syrup.

“PEYTON ELIZABETH!” (yes, she has a middle name, after her God Mother, one of my best friends). I yell at her and grab her immediately before she has a chance to run off. I clutch her to my chest and we walk over to the sink. As soon as we get there, her whole body tenses up. She only weighs 6 pounds, and I’m pretty sure is a midget cat, but her back claws become the lethal weapons of a jungle cat when something she doesn’t like is happening.

The faucet turns on, and her body immediately starts to violently thrash. I’m holding her away from my body, dunking her into the stream of water in an attempt to protect my internal organs, as she flips and shrieks, and is all but audibly screaming, “Fuck You Mom!”.

Tail rinsed, I wrangle her back to my chest, still trying to calm her down, as I reach for the paper towels with my other hand, frantically trying to rip one off, while unsuccessfully unraveling half of the roll.

I dry off her tail, and set her free. You would have to know her, but she is a typical cat I guess, with a loving, but super bratty personality. She doesn’t run. She takes two steps, turns and looks at me as if to say, “if I could kill one person with my mind…”

I look at the clock, it’s 5:15…welp, now I’m awake. People have always said that God works in mysterious ways.

I was out the door a half hour later, and as I turned to shut it, the last image I had in my apartment was the icy cold glare of Peyton, being sure to let me know I was not yet forgiven for my actions.

Yup… totally worth the allergies and asthma.