11I wake up at the butt crack of dawn, even on the weekends because I am some weird robot who has been programmed to rise when the sun does. I want to be able to turn my operating system off until at least 9 a.m. on a Sunday like most normal people do, I just can’t seem to find the switch. Just call me “Small Wonder.”

When I was single, this was a good thing, because I would hit the drug store, the grocery store and be the first customer at the nail salon when they opened. By the time it was late enough to start sending text messages, I was done with all my stuff. Now, when my boyfriend spends the night, I try to wait for him because he likes to cook breakfast for me. This would be just amazing if I didn’t wake up a full four hours before him. On the days that I can’t motivate to work out or run morning errands, I have a lot of time to do me. (As in,” I’m doin’ me.”)

“What have you been doing all this time?” my boyfriend asks, when he finally rolls out of bed at 11 a.m.

“Oh nothing much,” I reply.

That’s a total lie. I lived 12 days in those four hours. Here’s a typical snapshot of how I really spent my time while he was sleeping:

TV He Hates: 

1. Four hours is enough time to watch “America’s Next Top Model,” “Project Runway” and “Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss” without ever having to hear him say, “This show is awful.” That is exactly why I watch them, thank you very much. And if I should cry when someone gets the skin removal surgery or creates a garment inspired by gay marriage, so be it. I won’t judge myself for it.

Gross Stuff: 

2. The plucking of unmentionable hairs has a time and a place. That time and place is my bathroom while he’s sleeping.

3. This is also a great time to pick dead skin off your feet with no fear of judgement. Or other things of that nature.


Shame Spirals: 

5. I can pull the tags off the 12 new pairs of underwear I bought because I don’t really feel like admitting that I bought more panties when I told him I was going to throw a bunch away, which reminds me to…

6. Sniff the crotch of my jeans to see which ones desperately need to go to the laundry and which can wait. This inevitably leads to…

7. Trying everything on in my closet that I’m not sure still fits me, which takes me to the kitchen where I…

8. Eat the gross snacks. Not that I would care if he saw me eating peanut butter straight out of the jar while standing in front of the fridge, but I just kind of feel like doing it alone. Also, I’m starving because I’m trying to wait and eat breakfast with him. Is he almost up?

Wacky Rituals:

9. He doesn’t seem to be rousing anytime soon, so I’ll take this opportunity whip out my Goddess Oracle cards and do a reading about my future. I need more Athena and some Green Tara Energy to balance my anxiety, say the cards. But thinking about this makes me feel anxious.

Mindless Release: 

10. Anxiety isn’t on the menu this weekend, I’m supposed to be relaxing, so I need to find a way to zone out. I do this by reading six pages of my book and abandoning it to stalk that girl that my friend used to date on Instagram. I’ve been following her obsessively since their breakup two years ago. I can’t explain why, but I’ve been invested too long to consider stopping. And he’s been sleeping for too long. So, I might tiptoe into the bedroom and stare at him until he opens his eyes and screams.

11. But it’s probably nicer just to do some online shopping for backpacks or organic cotton sheets or something that I really don’t need until that LOUD ONLINE ADVERTISEMENT accidentally starts playing and wakes him up. OOPS.



The FriskyThis post originally appeared on The Frisky. Republished with permission.

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