Good Intentions

Last night was the best night for viewing the Perseid meteor showers. Supposedly, if you had a clear night (we did), with little light (we're on a lake, so it's pretty dark), you would be able to see up to 40 meteors per HOUR around 3 or 4:00 a.m.

I went outside about 11:00 p.m. and saw a couple of streaks across the sky, which was pretty cool...so I decided I would make the effort to get up at the crack of dawn to see the entire show.

I carefully set my alarm for 3:25 a.m.

Hubby looked at me, aghast... "Are you SERIOUSLY going to get up at 3:25 a.m. to watch a meteor shower??!!" he asked, incredulously....

I calmly said, "Yes. Don't look at me like that. I can get up early when I have to." Oh, hubby of little faith...thinking I can't drag myself out of bed before noon. Geesh.

So, at 3:25 a.m., my alarm goes off...rudely interrupting a wonderful dream which was something about Brad Pitt and piles of chocolate and oodles of new shoes.

I rolled over in bed, smacked the alarm so hard, I knocked it into next week, and promptly rolled back to sleep.

As I was drifting back to la-la land, I heard Hubby say, in a sing-song voice, "Honey! It's time to get up! Come on - you can DO this! Rise and shine!"

I mumbled something incoherently, but it sounded a lot like, "Meteor, shmeteor....it can wait until next year."

Hey. A girl has priorities, right? And I'm sorry - but Brad and chocolate and oodles of new shoes beats a meteor shower ANY day in my book.

Peace.