Let me tell you about Sunday morning...

But, first, I should say that Saturday night ended with shots of Fireball, and a couple Tylenols, because if I've learned anything in my 27 years, it's to be prepared...for a hangover.

The problem with my bedroom is that my curtains are sheer and my windows face East. This time of year, the sun is up around 5am, which typically means I'm up, too. So I woke up yesterday morning at 5:13 and cursed the sun (the same sun that I was beyond excited to see a few hours later) and pulled the blankets over my head until I fell back asleep.

I was having a dream about someone I recently met, and they were saying something I couldn't understand because their words were drowned out by a loud beeping noise.

A few weeks ago, started texting from my computer. I don't know why it took me so long to do this, because it reminds me of being in 8th grade, when I spent my nights chatting on AIM. Except now I have to constantly remind myself that the person on the receiving end of my text is not sitting at a computer, so the paragraphs I send out at a rapid fire pace are probably too much.

I've set up the messages on my computer to come through as a certain "ping" noise, and that's what I thought I was hearing in my dream yesterday morning. Slowly I began to wake up and said (yes, to myself), "Who the hell is texting me at 6:45am on a Sunday?"

Another ping.
"Shut the fuckkk uppp."
Ping. Ping.
"I wonder who died. It's the only explanation for this."

I opened my eyes and realized that there was no my computer could be making that noise, and that's when it occurred to me that it was the smoke detector in my room going off. But no smoke, don't worry...just a dead battery.

I begrudgingly dragged myself out of bed, and into my kitchen to grab a chair. I placed it under the smoke detector, stood on it, and ON COMPLETE ACCIDENT, hit the "test" button. Ever have a smoke detector go off when you are standing no less than two inches under it? Not fun. Really not fun considering those two Tylenol I took the night before didn't seem to do the trick to cure my headache.

I unlocked the detector to take the battery out, thinking I could easily change it, when I realized it was a 9 volt. Do you think I have extra 9 volt batteries just hanging around? Uhh, yeah right. This is 2014! Shouldn't I be able to plug the detector into something and just charge the damn thing? I put the battery on my dresser, and left the detector hanging from my ceiling. Good enough. It was too early for that shit.

I crawled back into bed, got into my comfortable position - on my stomach, facing out, one arm under the pillow, with my throw blanket covering most of my face - and closed my eyes.


"What...the actual fuck?"


"Just ignore it, Alissa. Just ignore it."

But, the thing is, I'm really bad at ignoring things. Unless we're talking about someone who pisses me off. Which, in that case, forget it, because I'll ignore you for days. Years, even.

I got back out of bed, crawled onto the chair, and started messing around with the wires. I don't know if you've ever seen the wires connected to a smoke detector, but they pretty much say, "Don't mess with us unless you know what you're doing." I had no clue what I was doing, so I gave up, went back to my bed, put on my headphones and hoped that the soothing sound of The Avett Brothers would lull me back to sleep. It was starting to work when I felt my bed start to shake just the slightest bit.

"Oh, great, now we're having an earthquake*? Is this the zombie apocalypse? Because at this point, I give up, and they can come eat me for all I care. I'd much rather be eaten by zombies than by my cats."

It was at this point that Nico started crying like a little bitch outside of my bedroom door. Now, if you've ever been to my house, you know the exact throaty whine that I'm talking about. Sometimes it legitimately sounds like he's saying, "Mmmmoooommmm!" I'm not joking, I have witnesses.

I rolled over, turned the volume up on my headphones, and waited for sleep to come.

This morning I woke up to the sound of my alarm. 4:45. Time to get up to go to spin.

I'm still trying to decide which morning was worse.

*It was not an earthquake. I blame hangover shakes.