Morning Moodiness
Morning moodiness. I’m sort of morning sick in the brain. But who can blame me…? Out of loneliness I decide its ok for Merlijn to sleep in my bed, so I at least have something to cuddle up to. But in the morning I wake to find myself on the edge of my bed, coz the lil’ fellow thinks it’s necessary to lie cross over. As soon as I re-conquered a lil’ space, almost slipping away in unconsciousness, Plebs has noticed I’ve been awake and feels the need to demand some food. When she notices that she has the same effect on me as my alarm clock (no effect at all) she gets her big brother… When I say big, I mean big. Spijker is doubted to be a cat. He’s more of a unidentified cat-specie. Besides the panther-look on his face, Lynx sized paws, he weighs about 9 kg (20 pounds). Something hard to ignore when sitting on top of you. Indirectly Plebs is wáy more effective than the alarm clock and, along side, has a big effect on my morning moodiness.
Then I notice that I forgot to buy bread yesterday. I go along with Merlijn and eat porridge and discover, being quite of a chef, I’m a disaster at porridge. The poor child (Merlijn) that is forced to eat this every morning…
‘Come on Merlijn, brush your teeth, wash your face and empty your (sand filled) shoes and put them on. Empty your (sand filled) shoes and put them on. Empty your (sand filled) shoes and put them on. Empty your (sand filled) shoes and put them on. Empty your (sand filled) shoes and put them on. EMPTY YOUR SHOES AND PUT THEM ONNNNNNNNNN! When I finally grab the shoes and empty them in the bin, Merlijn throws himself on the floor and starts a deep intense cry ‘I wanted to do my shoehoehoehoehoes!’ ‘Ýóu cán do your shoes’ I reply agitated ‘on your feet, right now’. Cry evaluates in Drama. ‘I-I-I-I wantedhed to put the sand away!’ And to just get it over with, I show him the last 3 grains of sand and that it is all his to chuck away. ‘But I wantedhedhed tooooo dooo a lot!’ he sobs on. Snap. ‘Just throw the sand away and put on your shoes!’ I shout. ‘Whahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa’ is the answer I get. I apologize. I’m not allowed to shout and I didn’t mean to scare, but…. (sometimes I’m just a kid myself) BUT you really need to listen to me, specially in the morning. We kiss and make up and -finally- go to school.
And then I’m just really annoyed by all the cunts (M/F) on bicycles that don’t point out where there going. Fuck! Is it such an effort to just slightly raising your hand making a turn? Coz you know, it is an effort coming downhill, 3rd gear, finally in good speed to break with my half working breaks to discover that the Ass (M/F) ís turning right. And then the effort to make speed again, while I only had half of a breakfast (coz I don’t like my own porridge). Of course, coz of this happening, I just didn’t make it to get in front of the cleaning car in the narrow street and behind it I get the shower that I didn’t have the time for earlier this morning. Shower Karma: Just a washcloth under your armpits? I’ll shower you with a mist of dirt from the wonderful streets of Amsterdam. Great. And if it wasn’t enough: Sun shining as if it were a hot summer day in August. Bloody hell, 25 degrees and I’m behind a desk working my ass of to still not be able to pay the bills. And the last half day that I can take of, I have to offer to have the cable guy reinstalling my internet, not in the afternoon with hope that he comes right around lunchtime, no in the morning. And probably, you’ll see, he will come around lunch. So I can enjoy the sun from the inside confronting me with the great need of cleaning that my windows need.
‘What the hell was Sam Cooke singing about?’ She asked her self
(But thank god for the internet at work: All is forgotten as BF sends me email from the islands about the special places where he thinks of special me)