I thought I'd share with you how my day started on Monday. It is a tale that will warm the cockles of your heart.
It is no secret that I'm not a champ at sleeping or that bouts of insomnia mess with my life. And due to a medication snafu, the insomnia is gonna roar for a week or two. Let's go to the lack of sun time between Sunday and Monday shall we? I didn't spend enough of it being asleep. But by 6:30am I was as close to soundly sleeping as I had been in a while. That was until I started hearing a car horn. The kind of pattern one uses to beckon someone from a dwelling. (How's yer cockles, getting warm yet?) One or two beckonings would have been fine, understandable, even necessary. Twenty to thirty minutes of horn beckoning between 6:30 and 7am is not ok. Not ok (eye contact, head shaking).
After 20 minutes of horning I threw open the shutters and pulled back the sash (no bedpan Dad) to see what or who on earth - or 2 doors down on my street, could be making this rage inducing racket. It was a car. Sitting there. Idling. Idling and using it's horn to urge someone to come outside. I went downstairs to get a better look and...and honking again. My coat was on and I was out the door faster than you could say, "hey, don't get the snot beat outta you!"
I approached the car from the sidewalk to see a man in reflective construction garb, sitting in his car with the window down. The following is our "dialogue". All expletives have been smudged.
Me: Excuse me, is it you that is honking?
Angry Construction Man: Yah.
Me: Could you please not.
Me: (starts to turn and walk away)
ACM: What are you, some sort of F'ing lawyer or something, that you don't need to be at work until 9?
Me: (a wide variety of answers flashing before me to use, but Jesus standing there holding my tongue) No.
ACM: 'Cause I'm just f'ing trying to get someone somewhere on f'ing time.
Me: Ok. But maybe could you try knocking on the door instead of honking?
ACM: Maybe you could mind your f'ing business.
(at this point a very embarrassed lady-friend comes skulking out of the house and mumbles an apology and I begin to start walking away again)
ACM: (as he's about to pull away) Go F yourself.
Tender moments in morning people, I bet your cockles are real warm now.