You're not one of those Early Riser Fags...

...in fact, getting up is one of your least favorite activities of the whole live-long day. Going to bed and being unconscious, however, is definitely one of life's greatest pleasures. So obviously you're more than a little perturbed when you're having a Gay Cocktail with The Cuddler and he informs you that he's got to get up early for the gym tomorrow morning. You, of course, inform The Cuddler that there's a 100% chance that he's going to oversleep. Unfortunately, he explains that he's made an appointment with his Personal Trainer which is too late to cancel. You had no idea he had a PT. The Cuddler is fancy. You used to be fancy, but these days? Not so much. Needless to say, you used to be in better shape, too.

Meanwhile, after a few more Gay Cocktails at XES you kind of forget about the whole annoying Trainer business. Everything is happy-go-fucky until you get back to The Cuddler's place and he begins to set his dreaded alarm clock. You groan at the offensive LED display which reads 6:15am. You want to ask him why the fuck he suggested getting together tonight since he had to get up so damn early, but what comes out of your mouth is, shockingly, much sweeter: "Maybe I could just sleep in tomorrow and rob you blind while you're at the gym?" The Cuddler, however, doesn't answer.

You attempt to have a quickie Exerfuck since you are so obviously not going to the gym tomorrow, but The Cuddler kind of shuts you down at the half-way point. This really annoys you since you haven't seen each other since you subsidized his Birthday Dinner ($150 thank you very much.) Your last contact was via text message on New Year's Eve when you responded to his exuberant "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" with a low-energy, lower-case, "happy new year 2 u 2," sans exclamation point. So you take care of your business, solo, and your highly anticipated Exerfuck quickly dissolves into, surprise-surprise, a Cuddlefuck.

You fall asleep for a few nano-seconds until his alarm clock shocks you awake so suddenly that you actually scream. The Cuddler hops out of bed like Johnny Appleseed, presumably to plant something in the bathroom. You lie there, annoyed, while you ponder what time the sun actually rises this time of year? Enough time passes that you actually begin to wonder if The Cuddler is going to let you sleep in and leave you a cute little note asking you to lock the door behind you when you leave. Wouldn't that be nice? After all you've been dating for two months and it should be obvious that you're not a serial killer. Suddenly the bedroom lights turn on full blast, even though they're on a dimmer switch, and then The Cuddler starts rubbing your back as if he's a fucking mommy trying to wake her baby. But there is nothing soothing about waking up this way. At all. That's when The Cuddler actually has the gall to inform you in a voice much too loud and inappropriate for the morning, "You need to get up because I've gotta be out of here in ten minutes."

Ten fucking minutes! You sleepwalk your way to bathroom as you mumble something about how Firemen are probably allotted more primp time. You brush your teeth and rummage through his medicine cabinet for helpful products. A few drops of Visine help get the red out, while you briefly consider putting a few drops into The Cuddler's workout water bottle.

It's still dark out when your ass has officially been kicked to the curb, and you have absolutely nothing to say to The Cuddler as you pass by a few Tweakers, fresh powder still dripping from their noses after an all night ski trip on the slippery slopes of Hellsea. When you reach the subway you grunt, "Goodbye," and although you mean it as a permanent goodbye, it probably doesn't come out that way, mostly because your voice hasn't kicked in yet.

For the rest of the day you're a walking zombie because of all the Sleep Debt you racked up last night. Later on, all you can do is roll your red eyes when you get a text from The Cuddler that says, "My trainer didn't even show up this morning!" Needless to say, you don't bother responding. Anyway.