Mornings

Well, as you all can see from my photo, I am NOT a morning person. In fact, I loathe the alarm clock when it goes off every morning, and I would prefer to sleep until noon every day if I could.

Pete, on the other hand, seems to thrive on mornings. I don't understand it. He likes to wake up, turn off the alarm, roll over, and begin to maul me like a wild man.

My first instinct---even if it were Steve Perry himself doing this very thing of which I speak----is to bitch slap him across the room. I don't care WHO you are, mister, if you roll over and start mauling me like that, I'm gonna smack you silly.

Why? Because I have spent 40 years of my LIFE waking up alone, that's why. I'm not USED TO somebody mauling me when my eyes can't even open all the way yet, ya know? I mean come on, dude, give a night owl a break. I gotta have my sleep. When I start feeling a hand or mouth somewhere on me and I'm not quite fully coherent yet, I'm gonna want to break your face.

So this is becoming an awkward thing, this morning routine of ours. Last night for the first time since I moved to Pittsburgh, I actually slept in my own BED...yes, that was NICE...in fact, because of 9/11 happening and all the depression that goes with it, I spent the entire DAY sleeping in my own BED, and lemme just say, there's NOTHING that compares to sleeping in your own bed. I feel like I've been "on the road" constantly since meeting Pete, always in the car, driving here and there, sleeping in hotel rooms or at his mom's house, or at my sister's place inside a tent out in the backyard...none of those places included my own bed. I do travel with my own pillow though, I have one of those temper-pedic pillows and I love it, so it goes wherever I go. But, it's not the same if you're sleeping in a tent on an air mattress, ya know?

So the first night I'm finally in my own bed, luxuriating in the feeling of safety and security and all those Freudian things that I can't even name, just feeling like I can finally breathe a sigh of relief, and suddenly I'm being mauled in the middle of my slow waking up period, feeling good and happy in my own bed, relaxing and just taking a few minutes to remember where the hell I am, not quite thinking yet, but just barely conscious to the world...it's just a bit distracting and I feel as though my CHI has been interrupted or something, ya know?

But Pete is one of those driven individuals, he wants what he wants, when he wants it, and he'll keep going and pestering you until he gets it. Even his friend Clara says so, and warned me today not to let him "bully me" into doing something I don't want to do...uhhhhh, yeah...okay...I'll work on that. (Somebody tell me how the hell I ended up in Pittsburgh again?!)

I am just more of a late afternoon/evening kind of person when it comes to nooky, that's all. We are different that way. I see no problem at all with having a nice sleep-in-lazy Saturday and if nooky occurs, okay cool. But I keep reminding Pete that, if and when I get a job, there will BE no nooky in the mornings, because I will get up, shower, eat some cereal and hit the road. Right NOW though, I'm staying home, so I'm here all the time, and he is like a kid in a candy store---which I expected, sure--I'm just wondering when that new feeling will wear off and he will calm himself down a bit.

So his libido is more active than mine right now, and that's something we're trying to meet in the middle about. If he came home during a lunch hour, for instance, and I'm here, then heyyyyy babyyyyyy let's get busy....I'm all for a naked lunch... but the morning? Uh-uh. Can't do it. He's tried waking me up at night too, like I'll go to bed at 10 p.m., while he's still working on the computer, and then he'll come in at 1:00 or 2:00 a.m., and try to maul me out of a sound sleep---he gets beat up every time he tries that. SLEEP IS SACRED MAN!! Don't wake me up like that!!

Ah well, we just have to learn how to negotiate such things. So tonight we're going to the dungeon, he can beat me into oblivion, then take me home when I'm in la-la-land, and have his way with me until I collapse exhausted into my much needed slumber. But he'd BETTER let me sleep in LATE tomorrow, dammit. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to open a can of whoop-ass.

Love, Sassy Girl