I experienced this GodSmack that summer.)
“Clarity at 6:31 Still Comes Too Late”
I had turned my alarm off last night, because, sweet Saturday, I was planning on sleeping until I slipped from slumber.
Didn't happen.
6:28am: the apartment buzzer squawks.
?
Could it be FedEx already? Who has a package? Probably for Sharon downstairs. Ugh, I hate when they mix up our buzzers. Let me just - let me untangle myself from the sheets and see if I can see anything from the front window. Holy cow, the living room is stifling. Oooh, shut the bedroom door; don't let the A/C out.
Wobble, wobble, swerve, oof. My foot stubs into the floorboard like a sloppy kiss. The morning stumbles have me careening like a cliched drunken sailor. I lunge toward the couch, arms outstretched to catch myself in case depth perception tricks me.
Hmm. Can't see a truck out front and can't see directly down to who's...
SQUAWK!
Again?
I go to the buzzer box. I do not stub my foot - an indicator that I am cresting consciousness.
"Who is it?" (Can the person downstairs hear the edginess I have purposely peppered onto these three words? I have been awakened against my will!)
A woman's voice. "Sorry to come by so early but I have some murmurmrrmmmrmr bbbmmmrm."
"You have what?"
"Oh my, I'm just getting static on this end," she says.
Huh, you're going to get a lot more than that in a second, I think. I poke the buzzer with bullying intention.
"YOU. HAVE. WHAT?"
That'll show her.
"Mrbbbrrm mrmrbbrr I'll just leave it blpppblp brrrp.."
She is speaking a mishmosh of real words and humming consonants and I don't understand. That is a ridiculous thing to do.
To teach her a lesson, I'm now going to ignore her.
I release myself from the buzzer box and skip a little. Oooh! Bedroom feels good. Oooh, bed feels niiiiice. Snuggle, snuggle, snuggle.
SQUAWK!!!
(She's joking, right?)
I bang my fists on the mattress.
I am not getting out of this bed.
I am not.
I am not.
I am not!
My heart's knocking.
How dare she? This is my Saturday and it's... it's now 6:30! It's 6:30 and I should not feel my heart knocking! I should be fast asleep!
I am not getting out of this bed.
BUT
Someone needs to tell her a thing or two.
You don't just go around ringing buzzers and talking in consonants whenever you feel like it.
This is a society- there are RULES.
Look what she has made me do! I am out of bed and scrambling for the scrunched up skort on the floor. I am back to the blast of the hot air, fly-falling down the three flights of stairs, flinging open the front door and -
She is petite and perfectly manicured. This beautiful deer has obviously been up for HOURS and looks fresher than I will be able to muster by the afternoon today... maybe ever. She blinks her saucer eyes in such surprise.
"Oh,” she gasps, and her mouth is a perfect circle. “Oh my.”
(Only as I am in front of her is she now using all her vowels)
“I’m really sorry to disturb you so early,” she rapid-fire hyperventilates, “but I have big bags of clothing to drop off and - "
And I think I understand.
"You want the Reverend's house next door."
The saucer eyes widen to full dinner plates.
"Oh, I am so sorry. I am so sorry!"
"It's all right," I say, but I make sure she knows it's not.
I turn from this woman with such annoyance and disgust
because she woke me up with a squawk, ripped me from cool dreams, and spoke in a language I couldn't understand.
I close the door with every bit of disdain I can muster.
I have been inconvenienced and it is a shameful, egregious act that has been committed upon me.
I fling myself back into bed and force myself to relax and return to bliss.
I WILL RELAX.
I WILL LET GO.
Stupid lady.
Stupid generous lady.
Stupid generous lady, donating clothing to people in need.
That's just downright inconsiderate of her, being so loving at 6:28am.
That's just...
oh.
...
...
OH.
Now I am the one with the wide-open eyes.
...
I get out of bed.
I am finally,
fully,
AWAKE.
(Smack.)
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