Black and blue

I'm starting to sound like a broken record, but here it is: I am tired. Young Samson has been getting up at 2 or 3 in the morning for the past week or so. Obviously, the smart thing to do is let him cry it out once. Never let it be said that I do the smart thing. At least not right away.

In fact, lately, I am haunted by a snarky comment I made in college. I was noisily coming into my dorm one late night/early morning from, er, the library. The person I had woken up appeared in the hallway and said something about it being "late." And I replied, with something approximating wit, that it was only late if one was sleeping. Hilarious.

In any event, as I was trying to settle Samson down this morning, I was saying to him "sshh, buddy, it's too early for you to be awake." He raised his head from my shoulder and looked at me as if to say, "it's only early if you're sleeping." What he actually said was "bwa, bwa, caht, kah," but the karmic implication was plain.

He finally quieted down around 3:30. I slept through my alarm, dressed in the dark, and arrived at work almost on time. I did just note, however, that I'm wearing my olive suit and black shoes with blue socks. I'm not blaming Samson for this, because even on a good day I have trouble differentiating between black and navy, but I could really use a nap.