Mornings are Bad

My mother is famous for calling my house, no one answering, her refusing to leave a message and just calling back. Again, and again, and again, because she thinks we are sleeping. If I don't angrily answer the phone by the fourth call, she will usually leave a message. But I can't take it that long. A ringing telephone will rouse me out of the deepest sleep, and there is nothing worse than laying there, 'ignoring' the phone. Maybe it's a throwback to everyone around me dying, but I cannot NOT answer the phone.

Anyway, today is T's first day off in 12. We had huge plans of sleeping LATE, snuggled together under the covers, being caressed by the fan, being cute and grossing out every member of his family that reads this. (Hi!)

The phone began to ring. I woke up, pried myself away from T, and listened. (I can usually make it through one phone call if, I'm really tired, without answering.) Depending on what the answering machine told me, I would go back to sleep, or angrily go back to sleep.

There was no message. They called back, immediately.

I hurled the covers off the bed. Pushed myself to my feet, waking T in the process. Banged the door open, and charged towards the phone.

I answered it in a not-very-friendly voice. I thought it was my mother.

It was not.

The woman on the other end asked for our roomie, M, but by his full name. (Which we never call him) In my sleep addled, super irritated state, I barked, "I'm sorry, but you have the wrong number!" and hung up.

I then realized that it was probably M's mom. And that she had called twice because something terrible had happened, etc. (Spiralling into worry!)

So I wake up M, who works graveyard and hasn't been asleep that long, tell him what happened. He seemed unaffected by it. Still I feel really guilty.

I rock.

By the by, I must thank you for the way everyone came out of the woodwork over my recipes, people. Thanks. :)