Sleepy Blues

The telephone rang Wednesday morning at one.

Eric jumped out of bed and ran to get it, but by the time he got there, it had stopped ringing. The caller did not stay on the line long enough for our answering machine ('Hi. You've reached... well, if you're calling here, you should already know who you've reached.') to pick up.

I didn't hear it ring because I had earplugs in my ears. I slept through the phone call. I slept through the call Eric made to Matt's cell phone ("If you called, call us back. If it wasn't you, don't. Matt was doing his Wednesday nite graveyard shift.)

Eric took care of the fact that I'd slept through the excitement, though.

He woke me up!! Yeah, you read that right. He shook my shoulder until I opened my eyes. Because he was worried about who had called.

I do understand. (Mad as hell, but I get it.) He has an elderly grandmother in Colorado and wouldn't recognize her phone number even if he'd figured out which button to push on the telephone to see who'd called, so he needed me.

I did not recognize the number, but for me to figure that out, I had to get my eyes open, rub the goobers, boulders and other debris out of them, go pee, wash my hands, stagger back to the bedroom with my reading glasses and
Try.
To.
Fucking.
Focus.

It was not pretty.

The number was in the 803 area code.

After deciding to look the number up on the internet LATER, we turned the lights off to go back to sleep. It was 1:12 AM.

Eric had no trouble. He was snoring again in approximately 4.1 seconds.

The last time I looked at the clock it was 2:10.

My knee hurt. My brain awakened. My knee hurt. Then, I turned over and OUCH!!!! DAMMITALLTOHELLSHIT!!! popped my shoulder.

Then there was a long chorus involving percussion, a moog synthesizer and two head bangin' rock and rollers from the shoulder AND the knee. It took awhile for them to shut up.

Actually, the shoulder quieted quickly.The knee? The knee is making sure I don't forget that I still have something that needs to be fixed.

When my alarm went off at five, I was not a happy glorified babysitter.

As I write this on Wednesday evening, I recall that I had all kinds of clever things to say.

But I'm too tired to remember them.

I did look up the number on Wednesday morning. No one we know. My guess is that the person accidentally dialed 503 instead of 803 since the eight and the five are right next to each other on the telephone keypad and 'Mercedes Graham' lives in the 803 area code.

I was going to tell you what Wednesday afternoon looked like at work.

It was a bit nutty.

But that will have to wait for tomorrow.

We'll talk about new kids, old kids and Kindergarten Roundup. Yeehaw.

zzz you later.