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Sunday, December 04, 2005
This morning I was very disappointed to learn that I am not a morning person.
Oh sure, I've long suspected it.
I sleep through air raid sirens. Alarm clocks are powerless against me. For super-duper important appointments, nothing short of three alarm clocks set to ring at different times in the different parts of the room will get me up.
Yet I thought with the right amount of exercise, an early bedtime and a hot cup of cocoa, I, too, would shoot out of bed in the morning, ready to tackle the day. Recently, however, this strategy is failing. The pull of sleep is winning the war.
It can all be traced back to that old adage, that pet owners become more and more like their pets. Hamsters, the original vampires, are nocturnal. I am a hamster owner. Therefore the strength of the hamster life force is taking over my life.
Take a look at Crenguţă before she wakes up:
Now take a look at her once she wakes up:
Note the fierce look in her eyes, the stance of somehamster about to pounce, the crinkled ears that are the sign of a sleep-deprived hamster.
Already I, too, have constructed a nest of scrunched-up tissues and kicked the roof off my bedroom. It's only a matter of time before I adopt the less savoury aspects of the hamster.
As I revert into hamster behaviour, I wish to issue a warning to anyone who might think of disturbing my sleep.
Like the hamster, I am liable to nip anyone who dares wake me before my inner clock decrees that "sufficient sleep" has been reached. I am, as well, very likely to lunge at anyone who disturbs my tissue nest.
You may scoff. But don't forget that, as a Transylvanian, genetics has handed me a set of fangs.
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