Katie is excited because it’s the weekend.  Me?  Not so much; it’s just another work day for me.  So when she wakes me up extra special early, even for a work day, I roll out of bed.  The sooner I get to work the sooner, in theory, I can come home.

My mind wanders as I get ready for work in the darkened house, Katie gone back to sleep on a rug in the bathroom.

Did you know that it is possible to fall asleep in the shower?  That’s why they invented those benches.  Far better, I’ve found, to sit down than fall down.

And when did it get so hard to put on socks?  I remember standing in the middle of a room on one foot, tugging a sock onto the other without thought.  Now I have to place my foot firmly on the floor and lean on the bathroom counter to get a sock on.  Better that I sit down for this too.

And wandering out to the living room, turning the TV on to watch the news as I eat my whole grain cereal I notice the traffic reporter is excited.  About what I wonder, thinking of my commute.  Turns out she’s excited because there are no traffic backups.  Of course not.  It’s 4:30 a.m.   And I wonder why all traffic reporters are young, blond, thin and so very chipper?

And what’s with the weather guy?  Do I need a countdown on how many minutes until the sun comes up?  Who really needs to know this?

Maybe I’m just grumpy that it’s Saturday and I’m making a peanut butter sandwich to take to work.  The better to avoid those vending machines that call my name when I’m frustrated.

No more delay.  I’ve shared my snarkiness with you.

Off to conquer my emails.