Vol. 11, No. 2,586W - The American Reporter - February 20, 2005

Make My Day

by Erik Deckers
American Reporter Humor Writer
Syracuse, Indiana

SYRACUSE, Ind. -- Now that I've started a new job, I find myself getting up earlier, well before the crack of noon.

Needless to say, I had forgotten there was a "6 o'clock in the friggin' morning," which means I tend to be rather groggy and shuffle around the house in a dazed stupor before I realize I've just stuffed the dog into the coffee maker, and taken the coffee beans outside to do their business.

So to help me get my bearings, I've developed a schedule that I follow religiously each morning.

5:57am - Look at the alarm clock. Sigh heavily with the realization that I've woken up three minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off.

5:58 - Try to get back to sleep for those two crucial minutes, knowing that if I do, I'll be completely refreshed and ready to face the day.

5:59 - Curse an indifferent and sometimes cruel world that doesn't seem to care that my alarm is going to sound in less than 60 seconds, and I lost three whole minutes of precious sleep.

6:00 - Debate whether to hit the snooze button or hurl the alarm clock across the room. Since the latter will most likely draw a sharp -- and painful - response from my wife, I hit the snooze button.

6:01 - Despite my best efforts, I can't go to sleep. The theme song from "9 to 5" starts running through my head incessantly for the 8th morning in a row.

6:02 - Curse Dolly Parton and her catchy lyrics.

6:05 - Shut off the alarm and shuffle aimlessly to the bathroom. I'm going to pull my hair out if I can't get this stupid song out of my head.

6:12 - Agghhhhhh! When did that start turning gray?!

6:18 - "9 to 5, what a way to make a living. There's no getting by, it's all taking and no giving."

6:20 - Curse the housekeeper for leaving my clean laundry in a pile on my chair. Now I can't find anything unwrinkled to wear.

6:21 - Pull out the ironing board and iron. Say a silent thank you to my mother for teaching me to iron my clothes.

6:22 - Carefully iron my shirt, making sure to get between the buttons

6:23 - Wait a minute, we don't have a housekeeper.

6:28 - Find a spot on the shirt just as I iron the last part. Throw it on the floor and find a new shirt. Carefully inspect the new shirt first to make sure there aren't any hidden spots on it.

6:34 - Pants! Where's my friggin' pants?!

6:35 - Scatter the clothes on the floor as I desperately look for my pants.

6:36 - I swear to God, if I don't find my pants soon, I'm going to -- oh wait, here they are. Who hung my pants up in the closet? Maybe we DO have a housekeeper.

6:38 - "Got to move ahead, but the boss won't seem to let me. Sometimes I swear that man is out to get me!"

6:40 - Why can't I get some other happy, uplifting song stuck in my head, like a funeral dirge?

6:42 - Coffee! Where's the friggin' coffee! Are we out of coffee?! I can't function without my coffee. A pox on you, Juan Valdez!!

6:44 - Curse my wife for introducing me to coffee in the first -- oh wait, here it is. Did the housekeeper put it in here?

6:45 - No, I'm pretty sure we don't have a housekeeper.

6:46 - Start the coffee maker.

6:48 - After an extensive search around the house, I can definitely say we don't have a housekeeper. Do we?

6:49 - Take the dogs out. Desperately shush them as they bark at the neighbor's dog. Marvel -- for the 1000th morning in a row -- that I have the dumbest dogs in the entire county.

6:50 - I mean, I've taken these dogs out every morning for nearly three years, and they still have no clue why we come out here each time.

6:51 - "9 to 5, for service and devotion. You would think that I would deserve a fair promotion."

6:52 - Just pee, you dumb dogs! I'm going to be late.

6:55 - Wake up my wife to tell her good-bye. Ask her about the housekeeper.

6:56 - What do you mean, we've never had a housekeeper?

6:57 - I know you're not my housekeeper. I never said you were.

6:58 - Tell my kids good-bye.

7:03 - No, I'm not saying I expect you to clean up after me. That's not what I'm saying at all.

7:04 - Grab a cup of coffee, run to the car, pull out of the driveway. Begin the 50 minute commute to work.

6:00 - The alarm goes off. It looks like I fell back asleep after all.

Copyright 2005 Joe Shea The American Reporter. All Rights Reserved.