It was one of those rare things today.
A day where we both slept in. When I say slept in, I mean until the dizzying heights of 9am, as opposed to Carole waking up at 5.50 in the morning and being annoyingly perky, and me waking up a couple of hours later when my sleeping form can take no more of the massive amounts of noise she makes in the morning times.
I don’t know what she’s doing in the morning hours. It may as well be one man band practice.
But whatever it is, she’s up and I normally wake a bit later and then stay in bed or leap from the bed and get on with some, usually kitchen related, task or other.
Today, I wanted to be up at about 8-ish to get some breads on the go.
I didn’t set an alarm. Carole had the day off, and she wasn’t setting an alarm. But that is not really a problem, as she has the ability to wake up stupid early that a milkman or morning TV presenter would welcome with gay abandon.
Except this morning.
No, the lazy bugger doesn’t wake up.
Everything’s thrown out by an hour. My plans for bread domination (the ambitions two-doughs-hoping-I-can-make-the-bread-before-a-shift-comes-in-for-work) was in danger. Not much danger, though, as Covid has done a number on bookings for work at the moment, but still some danger.
Everything was later.
And, somehow, as the morning went on and turned to afternoon, everything got later still.
It was weird.
I don’t know what happened. But it’s not normally stuff that happens when I’m at home on my own. Somehow, Carole being home for a study day, and beavering away on her OU essay for the whole day, threw everything out – from getting up, through bread-making and into a shift which did actually turn up at work (but then changed times and to which the customers were then really late).
Who knew that Carole held such power?
Or that her not getting up and making noise before 7am, could cause such repercussions. It’s the butterfly effect, in action. All in the form of one stressed little History student writing an essay about music (the bit of the course she hates) and hating every minute of it.