The Snooze Button

I am queen of the snooze button on my fourteen year old clock-radio combo.  Remember those?  Actually, I set three different morning alarms:  5:46am; 6:11am; 6:27am.  And then I quickly slap the snooze button.  Or the sleep button, as it may be called.  The button that lets you continue sleeping for exactly seven more minutes. 

Except for this morning:

I woke up to a mysteriously new radio station.  I am not sure who was playing with the dials, but I am glad they did.

I woke up and I thought I was 21 years old -- all over again.  I have this whole Saturday ahead of me... with no concrete plans... just ME... just 24 hours of no lists, no schedules, no appointments, no work, no classes... just ME. 

I reached over with one hand and instead of slamming the snooze button, I rotated the volume button: UP HIGH!

I jumped out of bed.  Shocked by my flannel pajama donned appearance and baggy sweatshirt.  Not quite what a 21 year old would wear.  But I did jump up and start dancing.  The kind of dancing from the "dance club" stage.  I danced around the room (avoiding mirrors) and danced my way into the shower.  I sang at the top of my lungs.  I sached across the tiled floor and ...

... collided with a strange man holding two children. 

(They are claiming to be my astonished looking husband and equally shocked sleepy-eyed daughters.) 

ARGHHH!

I'm NOT 21!  I'm NOT alone!  I'm NOT irresponsible!  I'm NOT underscheduled!  It's NOT even SATURDAY! 

Yet, the music continued...

When I'm walkin' I strut my stuff, man I'm so strung out

I'm high as a kite I just might stop to check you out

Let me go on like I blister in the sun

Let me go on big hands I know you're the one

Blister in the Sun by the Violent Femmes