Sleep.

It’s a beautiful thing when you can get it.

I chase it. I plead for it. I dream of it. Occasionally, I actually get it.

When I can get a solid FULL night of sleep, I feel the sleep gods have blessed me; the fairies of a fair night’s slumber have sprinkled their dust upon my face to grant me hours of blissful rest.

And then the neighbors start their cars. At four-ish in the morning.

First, let me say, my neighbors are lovely people – until they start their noisy cars and trucks at God-awful early hours. Everyday – even weekends. They are spaced with such military precision, a sleep study should investigate it for its impact on the unsuspecting sleeping victim.

Example:

4:14 a.m.: A motor vehicle in need of a muffle (or is in possession of a glasspack) is started and my sleep is violently interrupted. Now, it’s winter and the vehicle (and by default, its driver) is compelled to warm up for 20 minutes or more beneath my bedroom window.

4:33 a.m.: I have finally drifted back to sleep and am back to my dream.

4:34 a.m.: I am woken by the first vehicle revving up again before it backs out of the drive. And just to make sure the family knows he’s leaving, he taps on the horn – twice.

4:59 a.m.: Car #2 starts up and its not an SUV like the first (it doesn’t sound as big – it could be that glass pack). It also is loud and beneath my bedroom window. Waking me, AGAIN!

5:24 a.m.: Driver #2 taps the horn twice as he (or she) backs out of the drive, jerking me from my dozing state – AGAIN!

5:25 a.m.: My bladder is now awake. The dog, Wrigley is now awake and expects to be scratched back into oblivious sleep (stand in line, bitch!).

5:45 a.m.: I can no longer ignore my bladder – I have tossed and turned like I am the princess and the pea for the last fifteen minutes. I have lost the battle. I get up and head for the bathroom.

5:50 a.m.: My alarm goes off.

Just once, I’d love to turn the tables. Is that bad?