Post Labor (Day) Pains

I jerk awake to the sound of loud buzzing and reach my hand over to slap at the offending noise. My hand connects with more force than I intended, causing the snooze button to jam. Damn! This is the 6th alarm clock I have broken in almost as many months.

I drag myself from the warm cocoon of my bed, glancing resentfully at the still form of my husband. He has Tuesdays off so his holiday weekend does not end as soon as mine. I stumble across the hall to my son's darkened cave like room, tripping over an unidentified object on the floor. Do I want to know what that was? Not really.

"Waggup." I cleared my throat and tried again. "Wake up." I pushed him gently. He does not move.
"Come on..." I whine desperately.
"Not yet." He mutters, not opening his eyes.
"Yes..now."
He sighs heavily and blinks blearily at me. "Ok."
I nod and stumble back out into the hall.

The path to the kitchen stretches at least two miles, the distance falling into some warped twilight zone reality. How could my house possibly be that long? I begin my long trek. One foot in front of the other, I am determined not to fall.

I reach my destination after what seems an eternity. I make coffee with shaking hands, spilling grounds liberally on the counter top. The coffee pot makes preliminary spits and gurgles as it ramps up to deliver the fuel that runs my body for the majority of the day. I close my eyes and sway gently in front of it. I ponder during this endless wait, as I do every morning, on the possibilities of a quicker deliver system for caffeine. I cannot come up with any idea that does not involve tubes and open veins.

I slit my eyes open briefly and mutter desperately. "Please....don't tease me."
It hears me and dark brown, liquid gold drips slowly into the pot.
I breath a sigh of relief.

The work week has begun.