Imperfections

On occasion, I can be a little difficult at home.

I know, you're astounded.

It's easy to think that I'm perfect, obviously... but I'm here to tell you that isn't the case at all.

I'm especially imperfect when I'm in a just-awakened state. It takes about ninety minutes in the morning for my hamster to embrace his proverbial wheel and get me going.

Which means that, on occasion, I do stupid stuff while I'm half-asleep.**1 I mostly just sit on the couch and watch the lights on the router blink until my brain will engage... but sometimes I go so far as to try to carry on conversations. Or move with purpose. And that can be a problem.

Additionally, when I'm asleep, I'm a bit of a thrasher.

My Maternal Unit has compared me to an egg beater, a hurricane, a windmill  and a tornado. And none of those very flatteringly. My arms and legs and head tend to whip about in a mad frenzy, which often puts co-sleepers in harm's way.

In other words... on occasion, I can also be a little bit punchy at home.

Not punchy like "I'm going to grump my way around the general vicinity..."

But more like swinging-fists-and-flailing-heads-and-causing-general-mayhem-and-pain.

Which is how I went to work this morning with a banged up forehead, and Boyfriend of Amazingness almost had to go to work with a broken nose.**2

**1 Boyfriend of Amazingness says he's going to write a book about it. I wish he would - I bet it's literary gold. Not that I remember a blasted word of it...

**2 "Almost" in that I didn't actually break it with my forehead. Not in that he didn't actually have to go to work. Although that would have been a pretty sweet phone call. "Sorry, boss... I can't come in today. Sunny broke my nose. No... it was an accident... I was trying to kiss her goodbye for the morning, and she wanted to help."