I would apologize for missing Saturday’s blog, but I’m not really sorry. I was off doing super cool things with super cool people.
Friday night I was hanging out with Tina, her husband,and her husband’s niece. She is fifteen and cool as hell. I adore her. She is also a lot of fun to give shit to, and she handles it well, but mostly because it takes her a bit to get that you are teasing her.
We were watching television, and she kept asking questions about something that just happened.
Me: I think you have a problem paying attention to the t.v.
E: No, I don’t.
Me: Yes, you do. I had to explain the Futurama to you a few minutes ago.
E: That’s because I wasn’t paying attention. (Complete confusion while Tina and I laugh uproariously.)
Okay, so most everyone who knows me knows I hate mornings. It isn’t a preference thing, it is physiological. I try with all of my might to be a cool morning person, but I just cannot do it. I can be a normal human for a certain amount of time (not nice or anything but human) and then a limit gets reached and the monster comes out. The limit is never the same. I can’t predict how long I have of functioning time before I change.
Think of it like a tank. Whenever I am woken up before I am ready, I come with a tank filled with social interaction tolerance. It takes a little bit for the fluids to get fully flowing, but once they do, I am good as long as I have something in that tank. I never know how big my tank is when I start out the morning, but I can feel it emptying because it takes more and more effort not to yell at everything. Everything. When the tank is empty, I am a full out bitch monster.
Saturday morning, I woke up at 7 am-ish, which is ungodly early for me, and I started to interact with some of my favorite people in the world. The tank felt fine until about 9:45 ish. We had been staying at Tina’s mom’s house but went to Tina’s house. The tank emptied while I was driving, and I realized it when I was screaming at a stop sign. I went into Tina’s house, made sure no one needed anything from me, then laid down on her couch.
Me: I’m putting myself in the kennel because I’m cranky.
Tina: Good plan. (Tina KNOWS. Oooooh, she knows.)
E: Whaa? (I explain to her the morning bitch monster thing.)
Later on, I start giving her crap about something. She looked at me, crinkled her eyebrows, and told me to get in the kennel. E is pretty win.
Geeks a Geeking