Musical Car Crashes & the Slutty Snooze Button

I’ve gotten into the habit of getting up early and…well, mostly I’ve been going to bed around 9:00pm, and waking up at 6:00am, because we are still sleeping on the air mattress in the living room, and Benjamin likes to watch breakfast television while he has his toast and coffee.  While I was sick, I would toodle off to the bedroom and flop down on the bed for another hour or so.  But then I was getting pretty slutty with the snooze button.

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Officially committing to physically abandoning the bed happened around 7:15am. Technically, I should be out the door around 7:45am, but I get pretty slutty with my E-T-D’s as well, so there’s a very solid chance that when the 8:00am news starts, I am still on the highway.  The good news is I am very up to date on my current affairs, which is altogether enlightening and depressing.  After this quick run-through of all the death, war, crime, injustice and corruption, I park the mini-van and head off to spent the day with children.

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And bless all these little ones, running around like drunk little midgets, in tiny little pants, crying for their mothers and calling their yoghurt “yogies”. You gotta wonder what the government, environment, the general state of humanity will be by the time these slobbering, sticky fingered, little yogie spillers are my age.  And then…there’s that crushing responsibility of having any part in molding young minds.  And you really wish you had not been so slutty with the snooze button, and had started the day on a brighter note.

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Lately, I’ve been up at 630am, and it’s pretty blissful to have time in the morning.  After a leisurely coffee, I putter about, listen to the radio, and do a few housekeeping duties, or answer a few emails.  But then I get Girls Gone Wild  with my spare time, and then I have to do an Olympic speed walk through the parking lot to the minivan, and am made to face the news again.  But, I’m far more relaxed, less rushed, and I can take things like, oh the collapse of the American government, with a bigger grain of salt.

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Things are achieved before work, and then I get home for a half-hour around lunchtime, and I also take care of a little business then as well.  So, come time when the work day is done, I can come home and have spare time on my hands.  Time well spent, I think, drinking a rather large glass of red wine while Googling Ryan Gosling memes.

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My husband is working late, and I am busy with “work”, which means getting increasingly drunk, while blogging and perving on Ryan Gosling photos.

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Oh Ryan.  It gives you a little faith in this dark world, seeing  things like this.

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Don’t worry Ryan, I’m not going anywhere…I’ll just bring the wine bottle into the office so I never have to leave you again.  Or…about ten seconds before my bladder bursts.  Finally Benjamin called.  He wasn’t coming home for a while as he was going to the pub with a workmate.  This is exciting news.  Now was I off the hook for making dinner, and was free to cyber stalker Mr Gosling and then do some drunk blogging.  It’s also nice that Benjamin is meeting people, and making friends.  I do wonder how men approach one another and make friends.  And I want for my husband what any woman does.  I want him to meet a nice young man.

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I was pleased to hear that he was going out.  But I hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be one of those “Hangover” type situation, where he calls me from a drunk tank in Tijuana. He had committed to staying up until 10:00pm to watch the very special of Glee, where Cory Monteith‘s “Finn” dies.

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I don’t really even watch “Glee”, this show is like that person you knew in high-school that you never talked to but always smiled at.  Yet I am so curious as to how they are going to handle this situation.  It will be like a train wreck of music and emotion. A musical car crash.  And I am going to be there with a box of tissues and whatever is in the bottom of the wine bottle.    So this can mean one of two things.  That Benjamin has met a nice man and is chatting about men stuff over a few pints at the pub, or that he made the story up to avoid watching “Glee” and is sitting alone at the bar while I sob myself into a Glee-induced Coma.

alonein-a-barHe’s since come home…and wondering where that delicious stir fry I promised I’d make, while I was commending his decision to go out for a pint.  When I was fresh from the grocery store and feeling like a productive wife.  Before the red wine and drunk blogging.  And now it’s nearly 8:00pm and I should have been to bed hours ago.  Damn you Ryan Gosling, you did this to me damn you!  I know I said I would stay here forever, but I’ve got a pressing stir-fry. But thanks for the dreamy eyes and positive affirmations.  They need to put these on the ceiling at the dentist and gynecologist offices.  Because sometimes, your spirits just need a lift.

ryan gosling glassesImages Courtesy of Google

2 thoughts on “Musical Car Crashes & the Slutty Snooze Button

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