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That's the sound my alarm makes when it feels that I should be yanked from my slumber. It sits across the bedroom taunting me with its yell until I am forced to get up and go interact with it. I get to the little DamnYou! box and I am faced with a decision hit the big SNOOZE button and be granted 9 more minutes of rest, or wake up for good.
I make the decision and re-set the alarm for 5:30am, the time my wife needs to wake up.
I make my way downstairs where the aroma of coffee fills the lower half of our house like a glorious fog of alertness. Not Folgers or any other Commercial Worthy coffee, but the CostCo brand, Kirkland I believe it is, where I can get 752 pounds, for $14, equivalent to about 2 cups at starbucks.
My son, Hunter, is waiting for me with a hot cup of coffee as I stroll into the kitchen.
"Hey dad..." He greets me with a smirk.
"Hey Hunty, So what's today gonna look like?" I asked.
"How do you expect it to look?" He replies
"Well Im hoping it'll be an easy, slow glide back into the craziness that is my job..."
"It will be." He smiles
I can only hope that my 5 days off havent left me with too much to catch up on at work. The end of the year tends to slow down drastically in my field of work. Businesses slow down, and therefore Telecom traffic slows, and fewer alarms are produced, making my job easier, as well as the jobs of my techs.
Maybe there will be no Incident Reports or Customer Escalations waiting for me when I return to my office and settle in. Maybe there will be no traffic or accidents on freeway for the entire 37 miles. Maybe the coffee at work will be just good as it is here at home this morning, which is surprisingly wonderful...
"You're dreaming." Hunter says when I tell him of my early Monday morning desires.
"Why am I dreaming, son? Because a day without an accident on the freeway on my way to work is too much to ask for? Because a holiday weekend without incident at the hands of my techs is too far fetched? Maybe hoping for a return to work that isnt filled with emails from irate customers who feel that our service failed them in a time of need is unthinkable?"
"You're dreaming." Hunter repeats.
He has a way of putting things in perspective sometimes. He has a way of showing me other angles of a situation that I might have missed if standing still. Little Hunter has a knack for opening my eyes to the brighter side of every moment. We have always felt, and been told by many of the people who meet him, that he has old eyes. An old soul. A smiling and very observant little angel who conveys more while saying nothing, than most people could in an entire book. This time though, it seems as if he is suggesting a tough week for me, which is not his usual shtick.
"I think this week will be great." I mumble as I defiantly return his gaze.
"No, Dad. You're dreaming! I am only 21 months old, I can't talk yet..."
Stopped, in my tracks mid-sip of this fine brewing of beans
"Good point, son. Good point, and nice coffee, by the way..."
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