I'm grumpy this morning; not really angry but that middle of the road pissed off that you get when things not only don't go your way, but seem intensely perverse in making life difficult. I'm crabby, and I have two very good reasons for it.
Let's start with last night. I did very well last night. I did all the laundry, folded it, and put it aside so I could use it for packing later in the evening. I was done the laundry before 6:00 PM when my friend Anisa came over to help me with some winemaking tasks. I had been given a white wine kit the day before, so our first task was to make this new kit. Now I have Katie's "blush" rose wine in a carboy, my two red wines in carboys, and Anisa's white wine in the primary fermenter. That's 120 bottles of wine on the go. Plus we racked one of my batches of red and added clarifier to another. We finished by 8:00 PM. Then I packed. Everything was done and in place by 8:3- PM, well ahead of plan.
Even though I had said to myself and Katherine that I would go to bed early and not have alcohol last night, I thought I might celebrate my hard work with a glass of scotch before bed. So in I went to get myself a glass. Of late I can no longer easily reach the scotch glasses on the second shelf of my cupboards. What I do instead is use my "grabby stick" to slide a glass over the edge of the shelf, catching it into a soft receptacle, most often the blue plastic colander I use for straining pasta. Only this time I missed the receptacle, not once but twice! Needless to say, both off target glasses shattered on my counter neath the cabinet.
I was upset, embarrassed about this further loss of ability, about the reality that I am no longer consistently able to do something as simple as hold up the colander and drag a glass into it. I was so upset and embarrassed that I made up a lie to tell Katherine so I didn't have to admit I broke the glasses while trying to get at a scotch glass. Alas, I am no good at lying, so the truth will come out.
In that state of distress, I had my scotch, and another, then went off to bed. When I sleep, sometimes I keep the window in my bedroom open to allow the cool morning air to come into my room. Most times I can sleep through the traffic below. Most weekends, especially on Sunday mornings, there is almost no traffic until nearly 10:00 AM. So mostly I can sleep until at least that time.
This morning, however, is the morning of the Ronald McDonald House fundraising run, the one that starts with pounding music while they do setup at 8:00 AM, followed by pounding loud music starting at 8:30 AM, all spiced up with speeches intended to motivate and enthuse the runners. Now I know that my life is different than most; I know that normal people get up at some God-forsaken hour in the middle of the night, some as early as 8:00 AM, some even earlier! But really, can I not cut a break anywhere?
So I was awoken early by the noise across the street, on a day where I am looking at an 11 hour drive to Vancouver. I woke up still upset from the broken glass incident last night, an incident for which I had left the cleanup for this morning when I could see better. I woke up remembering that I had forgotten to put away three towels I had folded last night. I woke up realizing I had lied to Katherine just to avoid admitting I had scotch last night. I think I have a couple of reasons to be upset with life.
I am awake now. I have written. My gear is packed. Katherine will be here in moment or two. It's time to get the hell out of here, grumpy or not. Oh well, at least I have a coffee beside me and Katherine coming with me. That is the good part of my morning.
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