The dogs are hiding in the living room, safely away from my grumblings. They are wondering if they will get fed or if my meaness will make them wait for kibble. When you go to bed at 5am it is far from fun to have dogs wake you at 8am. But that's what they did. Shame on them. I open the back door. "Shoo." I boot them out into the fenced yard. Then I stumble to the coffee maker and plug it in. Thank god I filled it last night. My body is screaming, back to bed but I am up so therefore I am. (Am what? TIRED!). You may be asking yourself, why so late to bed? Titillating thoughts of a romp in the hay? Did I have a hot date that kept me all excited at that wee hour? No, same answer as always. I am writing. And proofing my writing. I finally got finished with the last edits on my book at that early hour. I was about to pop the key that would send it all back to Outskirts Press when my internet connection dropped me. All my green lights had gone out. What happened to all my work? If I were a drinking woman, I'd have gone for the scotch at 5am. But, instead, I ran to the kitchen, grabbed my stash of rice krispy treats, stuffed one in my mouth and dashed back to see if my connection came back. It had. Sigh. I looked at my work, my heart pounding, it was saved correctly. I immediately hit the button that said, "Yes, I'm finished. Publish my book." I was so happy. This called for a celebration. I grabbed the last rice krispy goodie and munched it as I crawled into bed at 5am. Dogs hopping on my bed and curling up on quilts on the floor.Well at least I can sleep late. My final thoughts as I click off the light. I awoke to the sound of barking so loud and foul in my living room that I sprung from the bed to see if my house was being invaded. Annabelle, my sweet quiet hound dog girl was making such a ruckus I knew I was in trouble. I grabbed the heavy flashlight from my end table and tiptoed down the hallway. I was prepared to knock the evil doer in the head. Alas, the only evil doer, my dog. She sat there plain as day barking at my neighbor as he drove out his driveway. Of course, her barking brought the crew of five others down the hall. All now wanting to go out. My hope of crawling back into bed dashed. Oh my. I'm up now. Day has started where night barely ended for me. My Philip Nutman Wet Work coffee from the Coffee Shop Of Horrors packed the punch it promised. Look at me, up and moving with only 3 hours sleep. A happy heart my book is getting closer to publication. I can sleep when I'm dead. You may ask yourself what a widow with six dogs is doing drinking a coffee named after an award nominated book that started the zombie craze? Well I took a screenplay writing course from Phil and he packs a punch as a teacher as well as providing a superb cup of java. Mornin' Phil! I'm getting closer!
My only question at the moment, when do I feed the dogs? Let them wait, I snicker to myself. They will think twice about waking me from the dead of sleep next time. But look, sunshine. Perhaps a treat to tide them over as I finally see the light of day and rejoice there is no more rain or snow.