The D Day

The next morning I wake up with a massive headache. Normally I don’t wake up with a headache. Normally, I need to look around for my head, usually rolled under the bed, and reattach it to my neck before I get up. 

Then, I remember. 

I have a crack-of-dawn date with a crazy gardener from outer space who expects me to baby-sit the old garden hose for five hours every single day!

I pull the covers over my aching head with a loud groan and wish somebody would turn off the lights so I can go back to sleep and wake up in a perfect world where there are no weeds and no crazy gardeners from outer space. There is something else I wish I could eliminate from this world but I can’t remember right now.

I wait for a while, but nobody is turning the lights off, and the annoying chirp-chirping of birds seems to get louder making my head throb. I roll out of bed like a dead log, except for groaning. I fix myself an extra strong cup of coffee and take it intravenously.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the cup in my hand, waiting for my brain to reboot at the speed of a garden snail, I wonder …

How did I get myself into this pickle? How did it all start?

Suddenly, with intense clarity I remember that somebody suggested a whining fast. The whining fast that I didn’t think I needed.  My kids, on the other hand… I remember the weeds, the rabid-squirrel habitat yard, the despair, the prayer, the white truck, the guy who offered an all-inclusive special…

I also realize that this so-called whining fast has turned into a whining fest, for now I see clearly that in the past 24 hours I’ve done nothing but whine and complain… It must be just a coincidence…

Have you had your second cup of coffee yet? A familiar voice jerks me out of my ruminations.

How do you know about the second cup of coffee?!! I jump off the bed,  glad that the cup in my hand is almost empty, except for the grounds on the bottom. 

It’s public record, silly… C’mon. just grab it and bring it with you. You can finish it while we are watering…