My mornings

How is it that some people can sleep completely through something literally screaming in their ear and some wake at the slightest meow from the annoying cat(s)? I just don't get it.

Sure, I could Google it and I almost did just then, but that would render this blog post completely obsolete and I'd have to delete it and start all over with a new thought. Nope. Not gonna happen.

So, yeah. I'm the person who can't sleep through the computer shutting down with the speakers turned off in the other room while Ryan is the one who LOVES choosing things like "Hangar 18" by Megadeth for his phone's wake-up alarm just to sleep right through it. Granted I can now recite the lyrics for about 10 seconds of that song, but I don't think I wanted to do that in the first place.

Even when I'm absolutely exhausted, I can't sleep through that crazy alarm. Oh, and did I mention that he sets 2 alarms a night? No? Well, he does. Phone alarm AND clock alarm.

Here is what my morning sounds like:
ZzzzZZZzzzz...
"Welcome to our fortress tall, take some time to show you 'round, impossible to break thes-"
Ree Ree Ree Ree REE REE REE
"fortress tall, take some time to show you 'r-"
REE REE REE REE
"AGH!" -Me.

I shut the clock alarm off first and put the Heavy Metal alarm on snooze. I do the latter action two (or three) times more before shoving Ryan to wake him up; he hasn't heard a thing until I move him somehow. Then he stirs and wakes slightly. A bit more effort and he's awake.

The word 'coffee' is usually the first thing out of his mouth. Since I'm up and already moving, I'll make him a cup before figuring out what to do with my not-long-enough hair and retreating to the silent confines of my bathroom on the opposite side of the house. Lately it hasn't been too silent because, by this point, my body is awake enough to register that I've still got a bit of a secondary sinus infection and I start coughing and blowing my nose as soon as my feet touch the familiar tile floor of my bathroom.

Once in my "sanctuary," I'm good. Unfortunately, I've closed the door and that means that there is an impediment between myself and my little Po cat. It's not like she was going to hang out with me while I readied myself for work, but when the door closes, she automatically decides that it's time to let me know that she wanted to have the door open by sticking her paws under it and meowing. ...and this continues until the door opens or she gets bored and/or distracted.

Done with my daily ministrations, I exit to see that Ryan's already come in, put up his cup and gone out to the garage to leave. I follow behind after putting on my shoes, making sure that I've got a book and my lunch and making sure that both cats are alive and healthily bored before dashing out the door.

...this is every morning, five days a week. I can't decide if I like the monotony or if I'm indifferent to it.