There is an exact time of every morning that I dread...consciously and sub-consciously. That time is 6:47am.
This should be a quiet time of morning. One filled with only quiet sounds...like showers gently running, or rockers quietly gliding putting a baby back to sleep.
This should not be a time for the sounds of a distant grumble followed by extremely loud screeching brakes heard two neighborhoods over.
This time of morning is still dark, and should stay that way until the sun decides to make its beautiful appearance.
This should not be a time for strobe lights that are so bright you awaken from a dream thinking you are in a 1970's disco.
Yet each and every morning I am greeted by these lovely sights and sounds...and it's from a school bus.
It really wouldn't be that big of a deal if I lived here...alone...but I don't. There is a little girl that stays just down the hall and IF she happens to still be asleep at 6:47am the lovely screech-wagon jolts her out of her bed. This jolt usually causes her to catapult into my room where we begin the day on a super high dose of adrenaline. So if I wasn't awakened by my subconscious doing the robot to the beat of screeching brakes...I am now!