The Wrong Side of the Bed

(#69) Monday, early A.M. - Dawn breaking, looks to be a beautiful day out there. In here however, it's another story. Seems one of us got up on the wrong side of the bed. Or it might be we both got up on the wrong side. The few words I exchanged with my wife indicated any more conversation would be at my own risk. So, I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed in here. The higher volume of early morning rustling I can hear through the closed office door reinforced my decision to retreat and let her bull her way through her morning routine. It is not a foul mood she is in as much as it is a "Get out of my way, I have more important things to do than rachet jaw with you this morning" mood.

So I wonder which one of us woke up differently. In retrospect, I think it was me. Last night I uncharacteristically went to bed at 9 PM. I actually slept for 8 solid hours. I cannot remember the last time I slept for 8 hours straight. So, I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed instead of the bleary eyed and grouchy insomniac I have become of late. Had I been in my normal foul mood, her cold shoulder would have gone unnoticed and we both would get on with beginning our workday and our work week.

Being in a good mood at 5:30 AM is an unfamiliar feeling. I'll certainly go with the flow, because finding good moods lately has been difficult. It is just odd to view a normal flow in our house from a different perspective. When I attempted to engage my wife in conversation before she was ready, I had broken the routine. And by being in a better mood than normal, I was more sensitive to the negative vibes of someone getting ready for their first commute of the week. So I retreated to the office to lick my perceived wounds. But now that I have thought this whole thing through, I realize it was I who was upsetting the cart, not my wife. To her it is SSDD, but to me today is an aberration. I am the one who got up on the wrong side of the bed, not her.