I like sleeping. A lot. Hence the reason I want to murder people who wake me up earlier than I intend to wake up.
For the past few months, TWD has been at the top of my hit list. He gets up early—so early that it’s still dark out. I understand that this is a perfectly normal thing for a fairly large percentage of the gainfully employed population but it is not normal for me. And while he’s very good about setting his clothes out the night before, he’s not actually very good at waking up.
He hits snooze.
A lot.
Sometimes two or three times. It’s bad enough when he’s using his cell phone (which plays a nice little love song in Spanish) but when he uses the actual alarm clock, well, I start to feel a tad bit murderous.
Fortunately for TWD, however, he is no longer at the top of my hit list.
He’s been replaced, you see, by mother. And my grandmother. And my grandfather.
Most of the time, I don’t mind living under the same roof as five other adults. But when I am woken up by the sound of my mother yelling at my grandparents to stop yelling at each other? Then I mind.
My grandfather doesn’t understand how Alzheimer’s works. He expects my grandmother to “get better” and can’t comprehend the fact that degenerative diseases don’t work that way. So he yells at her and she yells at him and then my mom comes downstairs and yells at everyone to get back to their corners.
It’s delightful.
The obvious solution would be to move out. And I’m working on it. But now that I’m applying to go back to school for my PhD, I won’t know until the end of March where I should be moving out to.
Admission to School A would mean staying in Philadelphia.
But admission to School B or C would mean moving out of Philadelphia. Said move out of Philadelphia might or might not also mean moving in with TWD, who is also planning to buy a new house (in part so that he won’t have to get up while it’s still dark out in order to get to work on time).
There is also the chance that I won’t get in anywhere, in which case I’ll have to make some difficult decisions, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.
In the meantime, I think an investment in some heavy duty earplugs is in order. (Either that or a good lawyer for when my latent homicidal tendencies come to fruition.)
