sleep.

I absolutely hate it when someone wakes me up before I plan to. It's not right. It's criminal. It's wrong. I want to give the person who does the waking-up a good bashing. The only good way to wake a person up is by tickling them. That's what my mother does anyway.

Ha.

Today was no different. Now since I have a few days of summer vacation left, I would very much like it if I could sleep to my heart’s content.

But NO. WHY would anyone let me sleep?

The 'anyone' in question here: My maasi.

Now she's a nice person and all, and I usually don't mind her cleaning my room, she's just doing her job right?

But on mornings when I plan to sleep in, she is the most foul and villainous of all creatures to EVER have existed. Ever.

I'll tell you why. I'll tell you why.

I sleep like an absolute ass. And if someone disturbs me all I want to do is throw a big tantrum and bawl like a baby. So every morning, while I am blissfully drooling all over my pillow enjoying my slumber, BANG opens the door and the light starts to suddenly stream in. My first reaction is to recoil, shrink away from it as if I am a vampire who shall crumble if exposed to light.

(It burnsss uss, it burnsss ussssss!)

Wait that's Gollum. Ah well.


All I can see through my sleep hazed eyes is a shadowy silhouette of Amazonian proportions, the figure of a big-bosomed woman wielding her trusty jharoo high. And first thing she does is turn the damn fan off. Now summers here in Pakistan are very hot. Extremely hot. If you don't bathe everyday, soon you'll start smelling like a sardine that has gone to rot.  

But I digress. 

The point is, it's so hot that without any sort of circulation of the air around you, you start to feel suffocated. And that, my friends, is not a good feeling at all. Now since, thanks to loadshedding, the AC hasn't been on the whole night, the room is already starting to get uncomfortable. I start squirm and roll around in my comforter, and the snowy mountains in my dreams start spouting lava.

So along comes the villainous maasi and she turns the flipping fan off.

Then she flings the door open so all the lovely cool air inside goes gushing out out out and then she enters the room, and starts pulling various chaddars from underneath me, chaddars to fold. She is, during the course of the entire operation, waving her dusty jharroo over my head so I receive a generous showering of happy little dust bunnies. I scrunch up my nose and fidget and turn and try to go back to sleep again but NO she won't let that happen. I am forced to wake up and stumble out of the room zombie style and go try to throw a hissy fit in front of my mother who has been up for several hours now and is in no mood to baby me.

Sigh. And double sigh.

I think I’ll have to resort to locking my room from the inside.