Thursday, July 10, 2014

A Bad Morning

I woke up at 5:15 after sneezing into the mask of my CPAP machine, the very definition of an inglorious beginning. Yes, I’m fairly certain that sneezing into the mask of your CPAP machine ranks right up there with wetting the bed on the Top Ten list of worst ways to start your day.

I haven’t written too much about my CPAP experiences since I got the thing over a year ago. That’s because there’s not much to tell. It works pretty well. I sleep much better than I have in years. It’s not nearly as cumbersome and uncomfortable as it looks…except when you wake up after sneezing into the stupid thing!

So now it’s 5:30 in the morning and I am wide awake. I went downstairs to make some coffee and noticed that my wife had bought me a brand new bag of Gevalia. I had been out of my regular stuff for two days and had been reduced to using some sort of fru-fru stuff from the freezer (Chocolate-glazed doughnut). Then I discovered that she had bought a bag of DECAF! Bless her heart. The poor woman has worked herself cross-eyed this past week to the point where she can be seen at 11 o’clock at night stumbling around Martin’s buying groceries. Well, decaf isn’t going to cut it, so I decide to go with the Keurig machine. My choices are as follows:

1.     Donut Shop Coconut Mocha

2.     Donut Shop Decaf

3.     Wild Mountain Blueberry

What has happened to America?? All I want is a cup of Joe and instead I am presented with items from a pastry menu. Coconut Mocha? What does that even mean? Will there be bits of coconut floating around in my cup? What genius thought of combining coconut with mocha in the first place? I love these kids you see today clutching stylish cups of Starbucks with their skinny little fingers. They just dropped $4 on a cup of over-brewed, bitter, acid water, when they could have gotten a real cup of coffee at 7/11 for a buck. Starbucks, the biggest, baddest capitalistic enterprise in America who’s most loyal customers are the type of people most likely to show up at an Occupy Wall Street rally. I’m trying to imagine George Patton marching into a chow tent during the Sicily campaign and ordering a “triple, venti, soy, no foam latte” but I just can’t. In fact, knowing George, if he heard a soldier place such an order he most likely would have slapped him.

Wow. It just occurred to me that the last paragraph sounds an awful lot like Steve Martin’s hotdog bun rant in Father of the Bride! I think the pressure is staring to get to me. I’ve got to hold it together for 72 hours. My most crucial mission today is to load up Pam’s car with all of the table decorations they have been slaving over all week and take them over to the “venue” so that our highly compensated table setters can begin their work. I just hope I don’t have a wreck or something…

State Trooper: Mrs. Dunnevant, I’m sorry to inform you that your husband has been involved in an accident.

Pam: Oh My God!!!

State Trooper: Don’t worry ma’am, your husband is fine.