The Fredösphere

I think I'm getting close to a breakthrough on my faux-Celtic choir piece.  Two nights ago I wrote a melody that seemed pretty close to workable basis.  I decided to stop there and go to bed early.  I would wake up early the next morning, grab my notebook, and put the finishing touches on it.

I have found those first few minutes after waking each day are times when my mind is clearest and least distracted.  However, doing anything, even taking time to shower or eat, can clog the gears.  Somehow it seems important to keep lying in bed.  Anticipating this, I put my notebook on the bedside table.

That night (two nights ago) my son decided to have a nightmare.  He was pretty irrational and loud, so dealing with him took a while.  That killed any hope for me of falling right back to sleep.

A couple of hours later, the Maharincess lost her pacifier.  For her, this is a major emotional crisis.  I had to find it and get her tucked back into bed.

A while later, the dog started barking.  That's rare, but when it happens, it's a problem since he sleeps right in the master bedroom.

And can I also take this time to mention that during the previous morning, the wifeosphere got up early and forgot to turn her alarm off?

Thus were my plans for early rising defeated.  Sheesh.  Betrayed by my own.  They're all disloyal.  My enemies now recruit within the sanctum of the familial unit.  Oh, how cunning and remorseless they are.  Then it hit me!  The strawberries!  I ran down to the icebox, and sure enough, I couldn't find them.  They laughed at me and made jokes but I proved beyond the shadow of a doubt and with... geometric logic... that a duplicate key to the icebox DID exist, and I'd have produced that key if they hadn't of pulled the Caine out of action.  Enraged, and more than a little frightened, I pulled out a pair of steel ball berings and spun them obsessively until I calmed down.

Coda:  this morning I awoke early after an uneventful and restful night, grabbed my notebook and in a few minutes transcribed a flawless version of the melody.  (Well, flawless by my standards.)  I'm ready to procede.  Look upon my works, O my enemies, and despair!  Ha!