Early Morning Start

    You know when you wake up in the morning your either very determined to go back to bed or you find yourself rolling off the side and onto the floor like the opening to a classic 90's cartoon? Neither of these ended up being my morning. Now to give some background, I have not been feeling up to stature health wise for the past few days and so my usual routine to ally my losing white blood cells to the germ horde is to sleep in. So, as it is Sunday morning I was hoping I would get in a few extra hours of REM. Perhaps a month ago I wouldn't have been as hopeful as my parents are avid church goers and that automatically makes me one as well. However for the past few weeks it seems as though they have gotten away from going to church every Sunday. Which would hopefully mean a won battle  with whatever sickness has invaded my tiny body. This is not the case unfortunately.
    
    Instead I found myself uncouthly awoken by my mothers distinctively shrill voice. Now mind you there is a difference between her normal voice and the voice she uses when she is ungodly annoyed with me. So as you would expect I was up and out of bed quickly as not to anger the dragon any further then I had.  I was unceremoniously unequipped for the dragon slaying battle as it appeared it had grown a second head in the form of my father. Now I don't know home any people when they first wake up are alert enough to listen to a stream of fire in the form of a heated lecture, but I can honestly say I am not one of them.

     By this point you have either stopped reading or are waiting for me to tell you why on earth I am writing a blog post on being awoken by my early bird parents. Here is the simple reason. They woke me up over a dishwasher. Now, let me explain in full why this is so significant. It is my job as daughter to put dishes in the dishwasher. A simple enough task in which I can do mildly without complaint. Occasionally I ignore my mother's ridiculous order to wash the pans in the sink instead of putting them in the washer. The reason I do this is because normally the dishwasher is almost completely full and has a little space to fit one or two pans in without hindering its functions. Why on earth my mother is so insistent on the pans being washed every time I will never understand. Anyway, that is not the point I am trying to make. The point I am trying to make is that they called me out of sleep to talk about how the dishwasher had managed to not wash about five percent of the dishes that were in it and had left quite a splotchy mess of itself. 

   Now, I am not a electrician nor a plumber, I do not intend to be either. Ironically my father is, which makes this worse. Apparently, from what I could gather in my dazed and still sick state was that it was somehow my fault that the dishwasher didn't wash some of the dishes and I did something wrong or hit the wrong button. They didn't consider the fact that the dishwasher could have just been on its period and had decided that it was not in the mood to wash things today. Still I didn't know how to combat the dragon seeing as I didn't even have a shield as my word of mouth explanations didn't seem to dent the scales. I know what buttons I pushed, and they were correct. This development turned into a usual fire storm of barking at me and melted down to me having to ask my mother  every time I want to wash the dishes. Which is very counter productive as she works from 4-9 every single day except on Saturdays where she works from 9-9.

   The point of the matter is, is that I am sick, and tired, not of my parents really ,as they are like this twenty four seven. I mean I am literally sick and tired. So this task that I have been set to clean my room today to prepare for my mother's lunatic sister and her equally but less so lunatic daughter is going to be a task in itself. I haven't even had breakfast yet. To be honest though my brain is a bit to scrambled for that.