The Awakening

Way back when we were married, about eight months ago, J-Fed used to have this thing. Actually, this was just one of many "things." Among his "things" were that he hated pork, detested having the blinds open and loathed clothes that stayed in the dryer for too long and became wrinkled.

But perhaps his biggest "thing" was that if he was awake, then I had to be awake. The thought of me sleeping soundly while he was out and about didn't sit well with him. In fact, I can't even count the number of times he'd rouse me from sleep based on his principles.

It drove me batty, especially when you consider the fact that I've always been the one who gets up with the children in the middle of the night. That's not to say I've gotten more sleep since the divorce. In fact, I probably exist on the bare minimum. Even on the nights that he takes the kids, he brings them home before 7:30 a.m. the following morning. No rest for the wicked or the weary.

I long for having one day where I can simply lay in my bed all day, undisturbed. But it ain't going to happen any time soon. Apparently, J-Fed thinks I've been getting too much sleep lately. And since he's now working at 5 a.m., he wants somebody to pay... and guess who that somebody is?

Maybe you think I'm being paranoid. I'd think so too. But I know the Fedster far too well.

You see, it was Thursday morning at approximately 5:30 a.m. when the ringing of the phone interupted my deep sleep.

Kiki: Hello???

J-Fed: Did you get off okay?

Kiki: What?

J-Fed: Did you get to the airport okay?

Bastard. I had told him we were leaving at 5:30. He knew damn well I meant in the evening.

Kiki: I haven't gotten off to go anywhere. I'm in bed, asleep. I told you, our plane leaves tonight. Just because you're up working doesn't mean the rest of the free world is awake.