Shot Out of a Cannon?

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With the exception of the long-gone drinking days I’ve always jumped out of bed with the crazy expectation that something good will happen today.

I can remember the days I was late for work…

…because it only ever happened once.

If I happen to set an alarm I’m usually up a few minutes before it’s set to go off, and if I do set an alarm it’s because I need to get up really early.

Been like that all my life…

…but not in this last month!

I’m tired!

I’ve been tired since golf ended and it’s because each night has been busted sleep.

Take last night, for instance. I headed up early with an aim on getting at least 7 hours.

Paris, the old dog, and Miller the cat came up with me.

At 4:00, on the dot there was a meeting at the cat’s food bowl.

Paris ate the food.

Miller, who has anger management issues:

Went off!!!

I imagine what those air raid sirens were like back in WW 2. Miller has one.

“Okay, okay,” I said through the sleep fog. “I’m on it.”

Re-filled the bowl and everyone went back to bed.

“I got two more hours,” I kept thinking.

And then I thought about everything that’s ever happened to me from 3rd grade on.

Must’ve drifted back to sleep eventually because I woke at 05:59.

Then the damn alarm went off.

In the immortal word of my Dad:

“BAH!

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