So, its just after 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning, and here I am cruising the Internet and looking out my window.
Why am I up so early? Well, for the second time in three days there were people out in the alley outside my bedroom window having a loud conversation. At least they waited until almost six this time. Thursday morning they were out there at 4:45...wonderful thing to be startled awake by conversation even before the butt-crack of dawn on one's birthday.
Not that early is always a bad thing. I'm up and at my desk by 6:30 or 7 on weekday mornings to start my day's work while it's quiet and cool. And since I do work at home, my commute is sixteen steps from my bed to my desk (yes, I counted) and I can work in my nightgown if I want to, getting up that early isn't really that bad. It would be better if I could work straight through...I'd be finished by noon or earlier...but the nature of my work is that I have to wait for specific information to become available before I can finish each component of the day's tasks, so it usually takes a couple of hours beyond that. That, and the fact that the downside of working at home is the inevitability of getting interrupted by people who think that because I work at home I'm not really working, or that I can take as much time off in the middle as I want. I'm not sure what part of the word "deadline" they don't understand.
Still, this is very early to be up on a Saturday, when I don't have to work, especially for someone like myself who doesn't do mornings and doesn't do caffeine. I mean, the birds aren't even up yet, or if they are they are being very, very quiet. There are beginning to be more cars out and about now, and I just heard someone sneeze across the courtyard. And some fool still has their air conditioner on rather than throwing the windows open while it's still cool. Granted, it is supposed to hit about 101 degrees F today, but it will still be window weather until at least the middle of the morning. Maybe they have more money budgeted for the PG&E bill than I do. Oh, and someone just flew their puddle-jumper over (ah, the joys of living near the airport)...and now another one that I can hear but not see. Must be flying lesson day. Or they just woke up over at the airport...now I hear a larger plane. There it goes...by the flight path, I'd guess it's on its way to Vegas.
Well, I think I'm going to make some breakfast now. I didn't have much for dinner last night, and I'm absurdly hungry. And then I might go back to bed. Or else finish that scarf I'm knitting...or that book I'm reading...or work on one of my writing projects...or do the grocery shopping.
Isn't that what the weekend is for? To rush around doing all the things you don't have time to do during the week?
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