Okay, for a lot of people, I realize that 6:45 AM isn’t early. For some sick bastards, it’s even late for getting out of bed. Not for me. Six forty five is the pitch dark ass crack of dawn that I don’t want to see unless I’m meeting it from the other side. It’s cold, it’s damp, it’s dark and it sure isn’t my bed. I have to be at my internship at 8AM so I have to drag my sorry ass out of my warm snuggly bed at an ungodly hour.

And my brain hates me. All day, it’s thinking “You want to sleep.” It even grabs my eyelids and yanks on them to get them shut. Even in the middle of meetings. Finally, I go home. I struggle through the first innings of the Red Sox game. I see the Sox bang out seven runs and then I sleep for an hour.

Yet now I’m wide awake.

What the hell?! Speaking of what the hell moments, when the hell did fall sneak up on my zoned-out ass? There’s a freeze warning tonight. The temp might plummet to near freezing. Holy shit! Where did summer go? I mean, it means the long days of hiking season are over, the crisp clear hikes are in, and snowboarding is just over the horizon.

…what am I complaining for?!

I’ve decided that if I ever move, Levesque has to be my roommate. We make an entertaining pair. Two ADHD people sitting on a couch, tapping away on computers, mindlessly watching red sox games and randomy saying shit.

Levesque will say something.

Thirty seconds later I say, “Huh?”

Or she’ll be whacking me on the arm with an empty water bottle repeatedly. This is great entertainment for her. Because of my work with kids, I’ve become immune to that sort of thing being annoying.

“This is great,” she said. “I’m entertained and you aren’t bothered.”

My reply? “What?”

Hopeless, we are.

On filling the air mattress: “I think your air mattress is broken.”

“No it isn’t.”

“I couldn’t fill it up last night.”

“Did you close the plug?”

“It has a PLUG?!”

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve tripped. This is a normal occurance to me that I don’t tend to think about aside from the outburst of “Shit!” whenever I do so. Except now with a roommate around, this provides great entertainment and gets pointed out to me.

We communicate primarily by flipping each other the bird.

Levesque starts telling me a story. There’s a knock at the door. I forget who it was. Maybe it was the pizza dude. I walk back to the couch. I realize she was telling me a story and I was paying enough attention to recall that and say, “Wait, you were telling me a story.”

“I was?”

And there was more of point to this post. Really. Other than Levesque would be a cool roommate.