I’m a no-time person

When people ask, “Are you an Early Bird, or a Night Owl?” my answer comes quickly and easily: “Neither, moron.”

When my alarm goes off in the morning at 7:00, I hit snooze every nine minutes until at least 8:12 when I begrudgingly drag myself out of bed and into the shower. If you dare disturb my sleep before this time: may God have mercy on your soul, because I certainly won’t. I decline invitations to meetings starting before 10:30, and on a good day I’m only 30 minutes late to work. Do not smile at me, or wish me, “Good Morning,” or even wave in a cheerful manner, for I’m liable to bite your head off.

The best part of my day is the moment I crawl into bed, lean against my pillows and pull the 800 thread count sheets up over my body. Before sliding into bed I must perform a series of rituals to calm myself down and get my mind ready for sleep. If at any point my slumber is interrupted, I must start the rituals again. So yeah, if you thoughtlessly knock on my bedroom door for anything less than a severe cranial contusion, prepare yourself for a beat down. Even my husband gets an elbow to the gut when he gently nudges my sleeping body so that he can spoon me properly.

I’m not exactly a daytime person, either. I generally spend my day sliding into and out of sugar highs, avoiding any real work and willing myself not to deck any unwitting coworkers.

It has been noted that I’m “not exactly in a good place right now,” which is probably true; generally I’m a witch 100% of the time. Nevertheless, if you cut me off on the road, pass me an assignment or even leave me a benign voice mail, (as my mother used to tell me when my adolescent attitude was raring up,) “You’re cruisin' for a bruisin'.”