Saturday, 22 December 2007

How to catch up on the blog

Squirrel's alarm bursts into an EEE! EEE! EEE! EEE! at 6.30 am.

Grit is fast asleep in a dream wrestling a walrus off the shelf in Tesco, unaided by Dig, who of course has a glass of white wine in his hand, and is standing next to the toilet rolls, complaining. Grit has to drop the walrus and wake up pretty sharpish because Tesco is on fire and there's the fire bell so vacate the store.

As I crash to the floor, Dig murmers helpfully, 'it's the alarm'. I pick myself up, blind and naked and veer past the door into the princess room, where Squirrel and Shark are fast asleep in their bunks. The bit of the brain that is still asleep transfers me from Tesco to the naked division of the SAS. I reach out, grab Squirrel's alarm and stumble out the room with an unexploded bomb, disconnect it in the semi darkness of the bathroom by ripping out its battery, then I stagger back to bed and fall over and go back to sleep.

Only I can't. After five minutes my eyelids pop up like they're on just-released elastic bands. No matter how hard I try, I can't roll them back down. So I stare into the grey outlines of the room.

Oh dear. Grit is now awake. Grit's foot hurts. One armpit itches. I need a wee. And I'm starting to think about more than walruses and fire alarms.

Now why did Squirrel's alarm go off at 6.30? Aha. I remember. At 10 o'clock last night, a striding-about Dig with raised forefinger in full lecture mode is telling everyone they get out of bed too late, and the solution to this problem is to set the alarms at 8 o'clock. But Dig is too short-sighted to have actually supervised the alarm-clock setting.

Now Grit is cross. Grit cannot go back to sleep. Grit will never go to sleep again with Dig waking her up with Squirrel's stupid alarm clock. Grit needs a wee and Grit is furious.

Grit leaps up out of bed, shouting 'And next time you have a f****** stupid idea about the f****** alarm clocks will you f****** well supervise it!'

And then Grit gets dressed in a huff forgetting about her knickers and with her trousers on inside out and comes down and sits in front of the blog, and catches up.

2 comments:

HelenHaricot said...

I once went to work with my trousers on inside out. no-one commented on it all day!

grit said...

i never know what to feel about this awful circumstance... shocked that everyone lets it happen, or outraged that no-one cares enough to notice.