Alarm Clock Guy

I am dreading waking up tomorrow morning.

Not because it's early. (I've gotten used to that part.)

Not because it's Saturday and no self-respecting lazy person wakes up before they're gosh-darned good and ready on Saturday.

And finally, not because there's anything I have to do on Saturday, besides shop for groceries and pretend to obsess about cleaning the house and/or bathrooms, depending on whether there's enough of that cling-to-the-underside-of-the-bowl blue cleanser stuff to buy me valuable time sitting on the couch, watching DVDs while thinking to myself, "Just a few more minutes till that stuff has a chance to kill all the germs lurking under that rim."

No, the reason I dread waking up tomorrow morning is that I know I will be up too early.

This is because of Alarm Clock Guy.

My husband and I live on the ground floor of a three-floor apartment complex. The guy above us is a person we have never actually personally met, but I can honestly say that I hate this person's guts. Every morning (even on Sunday, for those of you who are thinking I'm exaggerating), we are subjected to a ceiling-rattling ritual in which, from the sound of things up there, this guy heaves himself out of bed and jumps to the floor as hard as he can, then proceeds to juggle bowling balls (badly) on his way to the bathroom. I'm seriously not kidding here. Sometimes our ceiling fan actually starts making a different noise after he rises.

Alarm Clock Guy would be a godsend if he got up exactly two and a half hours later than he normally awakens. Unfortunately for us, he is what the proverbial proverb-writers had in mind when they came up with that whole "early bird" thing.

I'd better get to bed...the later I fall asleep, the more susceptible I am to "ceiling rage." More tomorrow, especially if I fall victim to the temptation to play The Sims in the morning before grocery shopping. That always makes me extra sensitive to the idiotic things human beings, including myself, do.... :)