Six Hours

My phone rings.  It’s 6:30 a.m.   This may not be so difficult for some of you, but for those of you who, like me, are NOT a morning person… you can imagine the drill.   Phone rings, and rings, and rings, while I fumble clumsily for what seems an eternity because I can’t locate the handset in my semi-conscious state.  Not to mention I want to throw the thing at the wall for the raucous noise it’s making.  Upon finally locating the earth-shattering bell that pierces my fog in a most disagreeable way – I groggily answer.  On the other end is the most chipper voice of A from six hours into the future… around his lunch time. 

I can barely form an intelligible sentence.  A is full of life and laughter and interesting tidbits.   He sometimes wants to discuss important issues… though I sense sometimes that he wistfully tables anything really important until I’m marginally functioning. 

This is our daily routine… for the past 3+ years.  We can rarely do the ‘my lunchtime / his early evening’ chat due to frequent scheduling conflicts.  This is not to say that we haven’t been able to have a decent conversation in three years… quite the contrary!  We do carve out quality time… and quantity (even if in varying states of wakefulness). 

Fast forward a few hours…

A’s phone rings.  It’s 11:00 p.m. GMT.  It’s 5:00 p.m. CST.  My workday is finished and I want to tell A all about the day, discuss important issues, laugh or vent and hear about his day.  I’m a mile a minute and somewhat animated… A is now the grumpy groggy one. 

Thank goodness for weekends!

Can’t wait to share a timezone…  :)