“Waking up is such a drag. Why do I have to wake up?”, I was thinking to myself as I woke up. I had quite a headache when I was re-entering the world around me from a peacefulness that seemed to ebb away with each thread of wakefulness. “Why is my body feeling cramped”, I almost shouted out. I just caught myself in the nick of time. “No sir, no. I will not be dead talking to myself”, words running through my head. Disorientation of the senses was a mild way of putting my discomfort. Bleary-eyed, I look at the watch. “Oh, God”, I groaned, “today is sunday. Why the hell did I get up for?”. That was when I realized why I woke up.
There she was standing by the side of my bed, looking both amused and irritated at the same time. I don’t know how she managed that and so don’t ask me that. Maybe it is one the things only a woman can manage. I distinctly remembered her calling my name. “So that explains why I was trying to reach a semblance of consciousness, she had to bloody wake me up”. My thought processes were just beginning to clear, I guess, because now I was able to make head and tail of what was going on for the first time this morning.
“Uh, huh. What is it about dear?”. I just about managed my own mixture of emotions, that of subdued irritation and emerging anger at being woken up so early. I took a quick look at my watch again. Eight O’ clock on a sunday morning. “Don’t you remember this is the day we are supposed to meet Jedi and Michael for lunch? You always seem to forget when we have to meet my friends. You know, selective amnesia is not yet proven scientifically or medically”, she said. “The sarcastic drawl has not changed or slowed over the years, no siree, not with her”, I thought.