I normally wake and get up around six. Normally. This morning at the dark of six, I was sound asleep. The phone rings. Jerk awake. Adrenaline flows as eyes realize the phone is ringing in the dark.
Hello? (Said in that creaky, raspy, first-word-in-the-morning voice. Question mark indicating, what’s wrong? Who’s sick? Do I need to pack to come?)
Concierge? (Question mark indicating disbelief that someone sounding like that could possibly be a concierge.)
Uh, no - this is a private residence.
Oh, uh, hmmmm, (tapering off into incoherent mumbling and hanging up.)
Adrenaline had started to fade instantly of course. Muscles were still crying out for having been so rudely wrenched awake. Gratitude that all is well with the family. Aware I could get up and that it is Saturday morning and there is no reason in the world for me to get up at six. Yay for that. Deep sigh and back to sleep for a while. Phew.