2+2=5

I woke up an hour early this morning. Naturally, I rolled over with plans to sleep for an extra 15 minutes. You can imagine my frustration when Matt pushes me out of bed at “6:34” and tells me that I have to get up to go to work. Who does he think he is? Grumble grumble grumble. I’ve got all the time in the world. Grumble Grumble.

So after a nice leisurely shower and a quick eyebrow tweezing I glanced at the clock as I turned on the blow drier.

8:02 am

Hmmm… isn’t something supposed to happen at 8:00? I know it’s important. If I could only remem…crap.

My office opens at 8:00

I ran screaming (figuratively) out of the bathroom to Matt who was calmly sitting at the computer. “Is it eight o’clock?! It’s eight o’clock! I have to be at work five minutes ago!!”

“Yeah, I was wondering why you were taking your own sweet time in there. You woke up at seven-thirty”

So apparently, in my early morning stupor I had my own George Orwell moment and subtracted an hour from the time as I walked past each of the clocks from my bedroom to the bathroom. Five, in case you were wondering. I deluded myself into thinking it was 6:30 FIVE times in a 30 second period.

On the bright side, it was the most relaxing 30 minutes I’ve wasted in quite some time.