Because I am nothing if not helpful

Public service announcement:  Waking up at 4:48 AM and calculating that you have approximate 3 more 45-minute sleep cycles to sleep is a less effective way to ensure wake up than, say, setting an alarm clock.

A doorbell ringing, on the other hand, is a particularly galvanizing wake up call.    If you take too long to get to the door, the sheet-rocker, whose assistance you very much crave, may wander off to one of the other 4 jobs he is fitting in that day. And may not return for days.  You feel compelled to get to the door within a minute.  But since you just now have bolted up out of bed, you have decisions to make. 

How do you best hide that fact that you’ve been scared awake by the doorbell?

Do you make the bed?  Pull on jeans?  Find your glasses?   Brush your teeth?  Comb your hair?   Put on a sweatshirt to partially cover your pajamas?  Put on a robe that will SCREAM that you obviously just got out of bed?  Pick two.   If you do more than that, the worker may wander away and leave you to your un-patched walls.

This particular morning I opted for combed hair and a sweatshirt.  Tried for glasses, but couldn’t find them in time.   So I went to the door in a half-blind state (-4.5, for those of you who care about degrees of near-sightedness) and prayed to see enough to show the man to the bathroom without bumping into any walls.  Also, that I could fake eye contact when talking by simply looking in the general direction of the blur that was his face.

All the workers on the job so far have been the all-business type.  Point them in the right direction and they leap to work. Till now. THIS worker– wouldn’t you know it– was the chatty type.  You know, the kind you repeatedly try to disentangle yourself from, but who effortlessly segues from story to story to chatty story. Until you suspect he is enjoying seeing you there in your rumpled state and PJ pants and sweatshirt and crossed arms and is just teasing you by endlessly talking.

So I stood uncomfortably trying to look attentively at  his face the upper part of the blur that was him, wishing he would go out to his pickup to get his supplies because– hello– unless he is planning on spackling with his bare hands, he is not yet ready to work. I figured that if I moved very fast I could pull my contacts and toothbrush and face cream out of my bathroom and pick out some clothes from my closet before he returned with his supplies.

Finally, finally, he got serious, and I grabbed everything I needed to make myself presentable, and made my bed and escaped to the living room where I made some very strong coffee and turned on Switchfoot very loudly so as to actually, really-this-time wake up.

Yeah, an alarm clock would have been easier.

Guess I’ll have to try it.

He comes at 8:00 tomorrow too.


  1. I have a neighbor that likes to stop by at 10 minutes before the crack of dawn to chat about how displeased he is with our neighborhood HOA. He’s seen me beyond my worst. Fortunately, if I don’t answer the door and he goes away, I don’t have to reschedule. So hard to remember this when I’m fighting mental sleep-fog.

    Alarm clocks are evil. I’m convinced.

  2. Duly noted. LOL. I have totally done things like this before!

  3. Hehehehe…


    That was awesome! Can’t wait to see pictures…

    Of the walls….

  4. Oh this made me laugh because I’ve been in that spot a 100 times. I’m not much of a chit-chatter to begin with and when it’s someone whose come to my house to work, someone whom I want to get in and get out so I can go on with my life, I max out my theater degree feigning semi-polite interest.

  5. This made me laugh! Better luck with the alarm clock!

  6. I loved this post! I visualized the harried-you all the way through it. Your dad’s waking response was always to put his glasses on first thing in order to avoid running into walls and doors; he never moved a foot without them. Can’t wait to see the beautiful finished bathroom!

  7. That was so funny, Mary. I often do my “morning chores” in my PJ’s and is it ever embarrassing when the doorbell rings and I have to hurry to cover up my braless state with a bathrobe to answer the door. Surely, the UPS man thinks I’m just lazy…

  8. I’m impressed that you were still in bed at 8 o’clock. My four-year-old human alarm clock rarely lets me sleep past 7!