Me: “Hey! Up and at’em guy! Rise and shine.”
Old Sol: “Sheeze! Hush you mouf, boy. I’m sleeping in this morning. Got a heluva headache.”
Me: “Little too much partying, did we? Get your lazy butt up over the horizon. You’ve got a tight agenda today.”
Old Sol: “Hell, I’ve got things going on you don’t even know about. Didn’t any sooner get this Venus drama out of the way and got Mercury coming up. And that ain’t the half of it. Same old same old. And I’ve got all this magnetic field crap to deal with. Look at this damned coronal hole if you think you’ve got problems.”
Me: “Look here, big guy. I know it ain’t easy, but you’ve got a job to do. If you can’t handle it, someone’s going to start talking to Alpha Centauri. We’re already farming out everything important this side of the planet. If you don’t want to be out-sourced you might start doing some gratitude affirmations you’ve still got a job at all.”
Old Sol: “Are you threatening me? You? I’ll tell you what, bubba. You guys just try passing all that mess off to Alpha Centauri. That sissified bastard couldn’t do half of what I do. And you’d be in for a loooong dry spell, meanwhile.”
Me: “It ain’t my call. It’s the multi-nationals. Just get on up and maybe we can both keep our jobs.”
Old Sol: “Yeah, yeah yeah. But look at that damned coronal hole, would you? I need an aspirin.”
Old Jules
So Far From Heaven 
Glad you talked Old Sol into another day.
Grinning.