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It's OK. I'll Sleep Later. When I'm Dead.

It's 9 o'clock on a Sunday morning, but for some reason feels like 8 AM. I'm fairly certain I have no one to blame except Benjamin Franklin and his not-so-forward thinking invention of Daylight Savings Time. If only he had stopped at the lightening rod and bifocals. He obviously never had to plan a conference call while sitting at a desk in Utah. For a caller in Boston. That will be calling people in India and Singapore. Sending the appointment on a Friday. For a meeting that will be held on a Tuesday. After Daylight Savings Time happens on that Sunday. But they pay me the Big Bucks to help people figure out stuff like that. Unfortunately, no one pays me Big Bucks to get out of bed on a Sunday morning, especially when church isn't until 1 PM.

However, if I sound overly cranky it has less to do with my confused body clock and more to do with the noises in my home. Right now, someone is vacuuming the family room. You heard me correctly. Someone is VACUUMING. You see, NO ONE vacuums unasked in this house. It only happens after they receive a threat of no friends, no television, no video games, or no FOOD. Usually the threat includes all the above before any manual vacuuming labor is actually performed.

Early (extra-early) on this particular Sunday morning, I have made no such threats - I'm not even out of bed yet.

And that begs the question: "Do I get out of bed and go see what kind of late Saturday night after-mom-and-dad-fell-asleep-from-exhaustion disaster someone is trying to cover up?"

Or is it simply best not to know?

Know When to Show Them (Show, as in the Big Screen, Partner)

My dear blog friend from Down Under, David McMahon, has suggested that if he were to cast a blog movie, I (as in yours truly) would play the part of the Wild West Gambler. Me: A movie star! Believe it - cause it's true. You can read all about it here.

As a former thespian I understand the importance of studying and preparing for a role. However, this character is one to which I can already completely relate. First, the obvious similarity. The name. Gamble/Gambler. We are already one in the same. And for the rest? I'm there. Almost entirely. Mostly. Pretty much. Somewhat. A little.

I do think it would be a kick to dress up in a plaid shirt with skinny jeans and a pair of supple Frye boots. Do movie stars get to keep the clothes? No matter. I'll make sure its in the contract.

Any other gaps between the Wild Gambler and I, can be easily bridged with a little tutoring from DH. While gambling is strictly prohibited in our religion. We personally believe playing a little cards with Jolly Ranchers is 'ok'. And to those that know him, it is no surprise that DH is the master of the questionable games.

Even without DH, I get most of it. I know that a full house is better than 4-of-a-kind. Or maybe 4-of-a-kind is better. Either way, I know they are both really good. And I know the red cards are diamonds and aces. And the black ones are shovels and those clover things. I can sing the chorus of the Kenny Roger's song by heart. So what else is there to learn? I got this.

Hollywood, here I come!