Where's my "REBOOT" button??!!!

Those of you who know me fairly well, or those of you who ever had to room with me for any period of time know that mornings and I have some seriously conflicted issues--which translates politely to "ELIZA IS ALLERGIC TO MORNINGS. PERIOD." If you are gonna live with me somewhat peacefully and without dangerous (to you, that is) incident, there are a couple of ground rules ya gotta follow: first, do NOT talk to me (unless you're declaring your undying, eternal love and appreciation for me) and expect me to verbally acknowledge you, until AFTER I have showered--all you'll get is a glare, at best a grumble or growl...secondly, do NOT laugh, smile, or be excessively happy around me first thing in the mornings--there's very little I can tolerate less than the "shiny happy people" who seem to POP out of bed like a POP TART wearing a perma-grin and being all chatty n stuff---UGH!!!!! That's pretty much it, basically--is that too much to ask??!!! Just give me my space, some quiet, and a bit of time to wake up, then I promise I WON'T KILL YOU or cause you bodily harm.
Ok, so you get the basic picture of why mornings and I just don't mix....Why can't I have a "middle of the day" schedule, that lets me naturally wake up around say, 10ish, stay up late at night when my brain is functioning on all pistons and putting forth creative brilliance ::rolling with laughter right about here, startling my sleeping cat, causing Ben to walk over here and peek over my shoulder and chuckle::::
This morning, for example, was a classically pathetic example of me trying once again to operate on the forced "daily grind" work schedule. Let me illustrate by setting the scene for the incident. 6:30 a.m. rolls around (I keep hoping that one of these days I'll actually wake up at that time, YA RIGHT!!!) :::stifling a giggle and rolling her eyes:::...Eliza rolls over and hits the snooze on her cell phone approximately 6-8 annoying times (as she has learned thru the years about the systematic obliteration of anything clock-related that encroaches on her sacred sleeping space; thus the cell phone, a "vital" device and much more costly to replace, offers the alarm functionality without the threat of being pulverized)...she pats around the bed checking to see if her hubby is sleeping in with her or concocting a plan to play hookie for the umpteenth time; after a deep sigh and trying to avoid the cat's persistent stare, (yes, it's so annoying to "feel" someone staring at you, even after squeezing your eyes closed more tightly or turning your head away from the offending stare) she's forced to suffer the crescendoing mewing performance alerting the neighbors on the GROUND floor (we live on the top/5th floor) that Nutmeg's demanding breakfast...mumbles incoherently, attempts to fumble out of bed, open her eyes, regain her equilibrium, NOT step on the cat or stub any of her overly-stubbed toes, and make it to the shower before faceplanting on the bathroom tile....once the hot water streams, she just stands there, debating whether to wait until all the hot water is used up, or to leave any for anyone else in the building, soaking up the steam, letting her muscles loosen up and wake up a bit...after scrubbing herself and rinsing herself into semi-consciousness, she cocoons herself in her plush purple jumbo towel, waddles over to the sink, where she brushes/wipes/gurgles, fluffs, pats, slathers, scrunches, blowdries, and everything else associated with the typical female bathing and grooming morning ritual....after stumbling over the piles of shoes and bags in her walk-in closet and grabbing whatever clothes come off the hangers as she wobbles and twists to maintain her balance, she has now expertly and randomly chosen her work ensemble for the day...after glancing at the clock on her laptop and muttering a curse or two for the "lost time" she tornadofies her house (i.e., the act of working into such a frenzy that she becomes a tornado swirling thru the house), gets dressed, grabs her keys, purse, briefcase, soda, lunch (i.e, breakfast item, like a bagel, that typically sits in her bag or on her desk until she's fully awake to getting around to eating it because she's unable to eat while she's half asleep), and is out the door and down the elevator in 60 seconds flat.
Impressive...I know....I've had well over, well, SEVERAL years, to perfect this technique....::bowing and declining any applause::::
OK, at this point, I normally hop in my car, barrel down the parking lot, weaving in and out between the meandering ducks, iguana, squirrels, or annoying MORNING people walking their leashed fluffballs they like to consider dogs (sorry, I grew up with REAL dogs, big ones, ones that you could roll around with, play water sports with, and not have to worry about squashing if you roll over in the bed on them in the middle of the night. Oh, ya, and they have REAL barks, not yappy little noises that oddly resemble the sound of the alarm chime on my cell phone alarm clock...hmmmm) and head for my trip down South Florida's "spine"--I-95....from there, I'm usually on auto-pilot, scanning my musical selections, settling on Vampire Weekend, Mute Math, Pete Farrell, Big Audio Dynamite, the Ting Tings, old Prodigy, or anything that is LOUD, EXCELLENT, and PUTS ME IN A DECENT STATE of AWARENESS....I somehow arrive at work unscathed, in a fog of musical bliss, having already had mini-conversations with my hubby, my parents, and possibly my office, making up any excuse why I'm "running a bit late." And the day goes on from there....

::humming some intermission music from Monty Python while the readers get up and get a snack or call nature or whatever n stuff::::

OK, but somehow, TODAY, I messed up, in that I stumbled out of bed, accidentally kicked my OPEN purse (which is always by my side of the bed on the floor, so I can stash my glasses, cell, blackberry, etc. in a grab-n-go location), which made my wallet and glasses fall out and roll under the bed....and I forgot to put on my watch or wedding rings, ran out the door, and was about 1/3 of the way to work when I fumbled around looking for my glasses and wallet. DANG!!!! And I left EARLY this morning, because there was an IMPORTANT meeting with our brand-new department head, so I actually wanted to cruise thru Dunkin Donuts for a coolatta, Mountain Spew, and a bagel....What was I gonna do??!!!!!! Well, I HAD to turn around, which I did, begrudgingly, cussing the ENTIRE way; then I clunked noisily down my hallway in my boots, ran inside, told the cat to avoid me so I wouldn't steamroll her in my efforts to locate my wallet and glasses, and REPEATED the jumping in my car piece, had to speed even FASTER than before, forego the Dunkin trip, and griped all the way into the office...HAPPY FREAKIN FRIDAY TO YOU, TOO, WHATEVER!!!!!
Of course, having a "reboot button" to press (kinda like the Staples "THAT WAS EASY" button that I have comically positioned on my desk, beckoning for all passers-by to reach out and PUSH it) woulda been SO HANDY to have right about then, wouldn't it? For times like that, or times when no matter what, it just seems like you've awoken on the WRONG side of bed and everything just seems to go ALL WRONG and you'd like to just go back home, crawl under the covers, fall sleep and try again..wouldn't that be OH-SO- CONVENIENT???!!!!
I'm just sayin....