Wednesday, September 27, 2006

7.20am

On the (very) rare occasions I wake up before 7am, or worse, actually have to be on the road at that time, it always amazes me that there are people who look, well, functional, and in some cases even happy at this hour. I'll be semi-conscious in the backseat of a taxi on the way to an airport or something, my eyes and face swollen from sleep, the indent of pillow creases still visible on my cheek, and there will be some guy in a van looking ship shape eating a Yorki, singing along to the radio. Or a woman in a suit with perfectly blow-dried hair and applied makeup, talking on her cell. Who the hell eats a Yorki at that time of the morning. Rather, who can eat full stop? And blow drying hair? That takes some co-ordination and skill, both of which I lack normally, let alone at that ungodly hour.

I've never been a morning person - ever, even prehangover years. My mother would barely manage to get me into the car on time for the journey to school, and then passing cars would be entertained by the site of me getting dressed and trying to fix my hair. To me, that ride to school was invaluable getting ready time, why waste an extra half hour at home when I could be sleeping? My sister Chantell, born a neat freak, and whom I disastrously shared a room with for a time, was disgusted by my behavior. By the time we were ready to leave for school she looked pristine, and her side of the room resembled an army barracks pre inspection.

This morning, in the midst of what I remember to be a vaguely unsatisfying dream (probably unsuccessfully trying to find a shade of liptsick or fighting with the devil), our doorbell rang. 7.20am. Seven bloody twenty am. I don't care what anyone says, but if you work from home and don't have to get ready to be public facing, or have to travel, you're going to get up maybe half an hour before you start your working day. For me, I start at 9am - 9.30, but then I'll also sometimes work till 11pm or so if I have a deadline. Why get up any earlier? Anyway, 7.20am and the doorbell goes off. I get up and drag on my yukata (a Japanese dressing gown/house coat resembling a kimono), chance a look at my hair in the mirror which resembles Don King's, and go to the intercom. It's John Lewis with the delivery of our wedding presents.

Yay wedding presents! Boo 7.20am delivery. The guys (two of them) came in with big grins on their faces. Perhaps they were chuckling at my hair and dressing gown, but I think they actually got a kick out of the fact that they woke me up. Evil bastards.

Anyway enough complaining - I've got some lovely wedding presents to go through and our thank you cards to write, which are already long overdue. Oh, and there's a set of barbells - my first set of privately owned barbells - a dream come true.

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