When your cat is up and had her breakfast before you get outta bed. Every morning begins with great intentions, doesn’t it? Your alarm goes off (mine is a bugle playing Reveille, nice and loud from my cell phone. I have other audio signals from my phone, but we’ll go into that later… So el Gato tries to shame me into an upright position, but I’m refusing because, I’m watching the Fox News Channel, then the newsy part of Good Morning America in a reclining position. And my bedroom telly is safely propped on a slant to match my head so that when I lay sideways, everything is oriented correctly. Another sign of our inherent state of relaxedness[word?].
Once I’m up, done my stuff, and gotten dressed, I retrieve my coffee leftovers. No no, not yesterday’s grounds… On Monday, I brew a full pot of strong coffee and pour it into a 64 oz hot and cold giant mug I bought from our local Rebel Gasoline Station. A big `ol green one. So I put some Hazelnut creamer in, and fill to the brim with hearty black coffee. Ergo, on Monday, I drink hot coffee, but I don’t finish the whole mug. I put the remainder into the fridge around 11:00 and switch to diet cola.
Now before you get on my case about the evils of diet soda, I like diet soda, and I don’t like the effects of sugar on my svelte body. So leave me alone. For the rest of the week, I drink refreshing cold coffee, out of the same giant mug I made on Monday. Efficient, hah?
Since my wife passed, I have added alarm tones to my cellphone. The sounds emanating my ever-present Samsung helps me keep my day somewhat organized. It also allows me to ignore something audible, which makes me feel like someone is here trying to control my day. We all have to get our little chunks of victory somewhere. So my bells and whistles are: At 8:00 am, a school bell goes off, telling me I should have been sitting at my dest, ready to do my chores. These comprise opening a folder in my bookmarks and doing a global opening of the websites therein. My bank, a daily text and the photo of the day from National Geographic. I check my email at that time.
Unless I decide to go outside and walk a mile in my shoes, (it’s rather difficult to walk a mile in my apartment), it’s time to write. I compose one of three blogs I maintain, and that can take a while. Then I zoom way in on the words, so that I can go over what I’ve written, looking for something, anything, that needs changing. When I’m satisfied with whatever I’ve written, I post it.
After I posted yesterday, I made several edits to the posted and published material, possibly generating a lot of stupid email notices to those who follow my blogs. So now, I’m using a simple text editor to compose.
I usually knock off sometime between 11:00 am, and 2:00 pm. The Five comes on at 2:00 pm. I eat my lunch and watch to find out what my political views of the day are. BTW, I think Dana Perino should run for President.
At 3:00 pm, another school bell rings, just for nostalgic reasons. It means I can officially relax. I watch TV, munch on snacks, and wait for the five o’clock alarm, which is a San Francisco Foghorn. For most people this means the start of Happy Hour. For me, it means to get the hell off the streets, because drinking drivers will soon begin to show up on the roads. I have an alarm set for 7:00, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it signifies the time to go watch TV in my bedroom, and close out my day.
One of these days, I think I’ll teach my feline roommate how to make my coffee.