Six-frickin’-fifteen in the A-to-the-M?!

Why have I been getting up so early lately? Oh well, now I just guess I’ll get ready and get in super-early. That should be fun as the following will or may happen:

• Getting in early means you get to leave early so maybe I’ll have time for the gym before the usual Tuesday night DJ shindig.

• The possibilities for a rash of coronaries spreading through the office when people see my puss before 9:00 has it’s darkly comedic possibilities…though I had better bone up on my basic CPR since I don’t want anyone to actually die!

• When the clock strikes noon, my day will be almost half over already! This is quite an adjustment from the clock striking noon an hour or two after I’ve sat down at my desk. (Okay, that’s pretty lame. When you work in an office though it is those little things that help keep the day chugging along sometimes!)

• Early departure from the homestead means stops at both Dunkin’ Donuts and Starbucks on the way in. Yum!

Y’know, I’ve been getting in earlier and earlier lately and that’s starting to freak me out. One of the great things about my job, when I accepted it, was the flex-time. As long as you put in eight hours a day, the time you clocked in wasn’t so important. This was partially done as a response to folks living in the city (I commute to the ‘burbs in case you haven’t picked that up over the last two years) and partially done because it seems that Marketing-types tend to like to sleep later…and what good are we mentally if we’re not well-rested, right?

Since I’ve moved, though, the commute is much less hellish so I seem to be getting in earlier and earlier. I suppose the fact that I’m not out at night nearly so often probably helps contribute to my subtly shifting schedule as well. Is this what it’s like to slowly turn into a grown-up? Hmmm…

Speaking of grown-up, I’ve discovered the one hidden trap that comes along with owning a house with a really big lawn that the doggies love. Someone, eventually, needs to mow thast really big lawn that the doggies love. And do you for one second think that someone is Photogal? Uh uh. It’s me, baby. Last week, for the first time in who-knows-how-many years, I cranked up as lawn-mower and cut the grass on our property.

Tankboy doing yardwaork? Now that's hot!