The Midnight Stomper


The thing I like least about TheMan not working, other than not working means no paycheck which means NO CHEESE!!!!, is that his circadian rhythm (whatever, I’m too lazy to look up whether I’ve just said he has the musical nature of a bug or if I indeed got the word right and am describing his sleep/wake cycle) is slightly off from mine. I’m fairly night owlish but after a certain point (about 2am) I’m done for and completely toast the next day. I also like to get in at least 8 hours of sleep so a perfect day for me might be 10am to midnight or 1am.

Buuuut since work starts at 8am, I’m forced to get up at 6am (6:30 if I can convince myself to hustle up and get ready) in order to get in on time. Mathing 6am with 8 hours of sleep, ideally I ought to be getting to bed at 10pm…which rarely ever happens (damn Law&Order). TheMan can exist on less than 8 hours of sleep so he’s perfectly content with the midnight to 6 schedule (or 1am to 6 schedule) without having to make up the lost sleep on the weekends (like I do). Bastard.

Add the fact that TheMan really hasn’t had to get up in the dead of morning since he was RIFed (Reduction in Force-ed. I verbized it there) he’s slipped into a more comfortable sleep cycle for him. Sometimes he’ll come to bed at midnight, other times he’s still wired and has at least a couple more hours of boogering to do. When he’s finally tired, TheMan will either snuggle in with me in the wee hours of the morning or sleep in the other room. Rumor has it I’m a tad cranky when asked in the dead of night if I would mind sharing the bed. Apparently, the answer is ‘yes’ (or as I’ve been told “grrrrRRRRRRrrrrrrrr”) fairly often.

Last night I was in a more congenial mood I gather because TheMan was able to freely stumble into the room at 3am without my growling his ear off. He wasn’t able to negotiate the laundry tangle, however, and wound up putting his foot through the laundry basket. I have no idea how that ever came about since the baskets are more squishy than brittle, but there was my husband standing in the middle of the bedroom wearing a laundry basket. It took us a couple minutes to extract his foot and then another couple minutes to extract the cat, who was convinced the broken basket was a whole new box and had to be investigated but we prevailed. TheMan has some scratches on his ankle and the Little Kitty is put out that she has one less box to play in but all in all, the early morning laundry whomping went off without too much trauma.

Now I just have to find a replacement basket that will stack nicely with the other two that haven’t been stomped yet. This totally means that they have discontinued that particular style and I’ll never find a replacement that will snuggle all nice with the two older ones. And that is going to bug me to no end. Maybe I ought to seed the bedroom with the other two laundry baskets until TheMan puts his foot through them as well, then I can get three new baskets that are guaranteed to stack nicely with each other. Hmmmm!

2007: Crocheting! Color 4 done! Huzzah! Crocheting! Color 4 had not quite enough yarn to make a complete 12th swatch.

2006: On the plus side, marshmallow washes out just fine in the laundry.

2005: JSFR: Jolly Pong

2004: The better and more answerable question would be “when was the last time you actually moved that big red monstrosity of a vehicle anyway?”

2003: All static all day. Come back tomorrow, maybe music.

2 Responses to “The Midnight Stomper”

  1. Patti Says:

    Heh. Jeff and I have similar problems. He can survive on 6 or so hours of sleep while I need about 8. During breaks, I get into my “natural cycle”, which is up til about 1 or 2am, sleep until 10am. If I could convince the school to just open up at 11am (and still get out at 3, of course), I would have the perfect job 🙂
    To be polite, I usually hang with the dog in the living room and then when I come to bed, Jeff will say something totally nonsensical or make some weird noise or fart or somehow acknowledge my presence. Last night (3am bedtime for me), he turned around, looked at me and said, “Do you know what time it is?!?” When I tried to answer him, he snorted and turned away from me again. He will remember none of this in the daytime and in fact deny that it ever happened.

  2. Amy Says:

    …last time Kevin was jobless, he drifted into a cycle where he went to bed at 7 am and got up at 3 pm. This was at Sir Wex. I’ve gotten used to going to bed before he’s home most nights and now have problems getting to sleep with him in the bed. He, I think, is rather pleased to have the bed preheated when he finally crashes at 3 in the morning… and we can theoretically snuggle until I get up 3 or 4 hours later.

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