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The long dark teatime of the soul

One thing about living with septuagenarians is that whenever I wake up later than 10 or 11 in the morning, it's almost like Christmas.

Old people get up at the ass crack of dawn, and by 11 they're exhausted and already did pretty much everything they were going to do all day. So one wakes up and wonders, 'what did they do this morning? What new and exciting surprises are in store for me today?'

Today I was hoping it would the the existence of food.

I was sorely disappointed. Got coal in the stocking instead.

Okay so it's entirely unlike Christmas.

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