2022’s First Lesson: Set an Alarm
“The old gray mare, she ain’t what she used to be.” I’m only 37, so I’m still able to do almost everything I could when I was 22, with a few notable exceptions: using the phone without the speaker function, drinking more than a glass of wine without a hangover, and sleeping in past 8am…or so I thought. And underestimating myself on that last point led to an eventful start to my new year.
The hubby had to go to Atlanta for work, so because of that and Omicron wreaking more havoc than White Castle on someone’s digestive system, I planned for a low-key New Year’s Eve. I had dinner with my friend Jamie, put together a puzzle (again, I’m 37), FaceTimed El when it was midnight his time, and toasted the new year with a glass of Prosecco. After my midnight ‘Las Doce Uvas‘, I read a book for an hour and settled into bed. Before I went to bed, I thought to myself, “I’m not going to set an alarm! It’s going to snow all day tomorrow, and I don’t have any place to be. I’ll probably wake up at 8am anyway.” Famous last words.
I woke up with a start to the sound of furious banging on the glass door that connects our bedroom to our back deck. Before I even had time to shake off the fog of sleep or process WTF was going on, my door started sliding open. I guess I can abandon all pretext that I’d immediately react with Liam Neeson moves if someone ever came into our house because I just straight up froze.
My neighbor, Mandy, poked her head past our curtains, said, “She’s okay!” into her phone and then “Good morning, sunshine!” to me, and slid our door closed. I *think* she also said something about calling Elliot but, and I can’t stress this enough, I had just awoken out of a deep sleep and my brain was still de-fogging. Adding to the sheer absurdity of the situation was the fact that I wasn’t wearing a shirt. I had peeled mine off in the middle of the night because it was too hot in our bedroom. What a start to 2022 for the both of us.
I grabbed my phone, saw that it was 11am and I had over 30 messages and missed calls from Elliot, my mom, and my dad. My first thought was that something had happened to my 97 year old grandma and people were desperate to get a hold of me. In a panic I immediately called Elliot…and learned my decision to not set an alarm sent people spiraling.
Apparently, my mom texted Elliot around 10:45 because I hadn’t responded to her texts. He also hadn’t heard from me, and I wasn’t answering anyone’s calls. They thought there was NO WAY I was still asleep at 11am so obviously something horrible must have happened. My parents started driving downtown and Elliot went into logistics mode, calling Jamie and all our neighbors. Fortunately, he got a hold of Mandy before my parents made it too far into their drive.
I then called my mom, whose true-crime brain had gone into overdrive, who tearfully answered my call with “YOU SCARED THE F***ING SH*T OUT OF ME!” I again heard how they thought it was inconceivable that I’d sleep until 11, about how I need to keep my ringer on when I sleep, and that my dad suggested they call the sheriff’s station (across the street) when they arrived. They would’ve had the cops go into our house first because my parents, and I quote, “didn’t want to see something that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.” Well they would have: my boobs.
Overall, it was a lot more eventful start to 2022 than I had expected. I feel so bad for worrying my family and friends, but it wasn’t all terrible. I was reminded that I have a bunch of people who love me, that El will mobilize the cavalry if something is wrong, and that this old gray mare CAN be what she used to be sometimes. I’ll just remember to set an alarm next time…
Happy 2022, everyone.
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Chicago gal and current Toronto expat with 47 countries visited, four countries of residence, and hundreds of “why does this kinda stuff only happen to me???” stories under my belt.
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