If there is one immutable fact in my life it is this: the dogs wake me up in the morning. Since I am NOT a morning person those coffee cups that scream “DON’T TALK TO ME”  in several cute and obnoxious ways were made for me. I prefer silence until my brain has time to adjust to the changes in its surroundings. (Like light and sound and movement)

Do not try to talk to me (even “good morning” is usually unacceptable) or make any noise. The routine is to stop the dogs from walking on me, drag myself out of bed, shove the dogs outside, start the coffee, feed the dogs and crawl into my she-lair to contemplate the non-speaking news reports, emails, posts, etc.

The dogs usually like six am. This does not please me.

Today my eyes opened at the ungodly hour of 5am. I have no idea why. They just did. It was a portent of things to come.

I rolled over and the dogs just groaned. They did not move, lift their heads or otherwise acknowledge that I was moving. Gracie continued to snore.

But there was no returning to that lala land that I had been embracing. Nope.

I was awake!

This morning I had to pick each dog up off the bed and place them outside the bedroom door. They really wanted to sleep. But, I think I reasoned, if they always woke me up, I could return the favor.

I made the coffee, I fed the dogs and  I retreated to my she-lair. I pressed the start button on my trusty computer and it practically shouted at me:

“BATTERY CRITICALLY LOW”

What? I always plug the darling in at night so that it can receive the necessary respite and be ready to charge into the next day. (ok, it’s a lame sentence but I like it!) I checked all the connections. Unplugged and replugged everything. And the charging light refused to come on.

Like my dogs, it wanted to sleep.

By the way, George and Gracie were, by this time,  taking their after breakfast siesta on the futon in the she-lair!

All of this lead to a colossal silent pout/temper tantrum. (It’s hard to say which) I realized that I would have to take the silly, tired, sleeping laptop into (oh lordy, no) Best Buy to see if they can find whatever connection had deserted its post and return said connection to duty, post haste.

Then I realized that there was a good chance that the connection had died in the service of its master.

I wanted to prepare for the inevitable. I wanted to search the web, google, maybe even yahoo for a reliable replacement. This I could not do. The data on my phone plan was nearing the end of the month crisis. I was unconnected. I was inconsolable.

Unable to proceed in my usual manner to acceptable social standards of communication or behavior, I opted for the gym.

That sweet place of sweat and strain. The home of psychological healing without the couch.

My trainer, bless his little heart, had me stretch muscles I didn’t know were tight. My shoulders and flexors began to loosen and I began to be able to think. I started to speak in normal tones. By the end of the subsequent thousand meter swim I was almost human.

I called in reinforcements. The Kid.

Following a bit of lunch and general socializing with other legal eagles (just cuz they are friends not cuz they are lawyers), she accompanied me to the dreaded Best Buy where we had to make an appointment for later in the day. She calmed my fears but took me to Costco to examine possible replacements. She geek talked to me. She then translated. I had my choice in mind.

But our return to Best Buy resulted, very quickly, in a resolution. My day was saved. I could read blogs. I could get election results. I could play stupid computer games. I could write. As soon as the trusty computer receive sufficient nourishment from the brand, spanking new charger cable.

And so I returned to my abode a much happier person than the one that left in the early morning hours. I believe the spouse finds the change acceptable.

I know he stills thinks I am strange.