OK… you need a bit of background here…
I’m kind of an ‘early to bed, early to rise’ type of person.
As a general rule, I’m pretty much conking out by 11:00 pm unless there is a really good reason for me to be up (e.g. downloading and watching the latest episode of Game of Thrones)!
Sadly, I also tend to get up fairly early… and by fairly early, I mean before 6:00 a.m. The alarm on my clock radio is set for 6:00 am and it is pretty rare that it wakes me up.
It would be nice for me to sleep in now and again. I just don’t get a chance to do so. Either I have to be up because I’ve got to be somewhere, or I just naturally get up because, well… that’s when I wake up.
So you can imagine that on those mornings when I can sleep in, it is a ‘few and far between’ treat for me.
This morning was one such occasion. It is Victoria Day (aka Firecracker Day) in my particular corner of The Great White North. No work. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Up fairly late last night enjoying the latest episode of Game of Thrones.
In my nice huge (king size) bed, sawing wood, blowing some big league Zs, all is right with the world.
And the world, being what it is… there are seasonal changes in sunrise times. At this particular time of year, the sun rises at about 5:50 am or thereabouts and will continue to do so, progressively earlier each morning, until mid-June. No problem. Shades are drawn, door is closed. Hoping to wake up maybe around 8:00 or even 8:30 if I am really lucky.
Nature had other plans for me this morning.
I’m sure it hit my subconscious before I opened my eyes, so it was probably the second blast that woke me up.
I just lay there for a moment, puzzled. ‘That sounded just like a rooster,’ I thought to myself.
Well, they say that three’s a charm. I needed no further confirmation after that one.
There’s a rooster in my neighbourhood somewhere.
Judge my chagrin.
While I may not have a lot of hard empirical evidence at my fingertips to support me, I am fairly certain that just about everyone who’s ever moved to a city has done so in order to avoid being woken up by a rooster.
I looked at my clock radio. 5:25 a.m.
The pre-dawn concerto was in full swing about half an hour later. That was when I got out of bed.
Curse you, Rooster. Curse your cold black cock-a-doodle-doo heart!