A typical day in my life looks like…
Han Solo meets a T-Rex on the way to a Circle K for a bottle of Crown. Yeah, I know. HUH?
Han Solo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I have been and always shall be crushing on Han Solo (a little obscure Star Trek reference just for shits and giggles – ok, for my benefit). Not necessarily Harrison Ford, but the character of Han Solo. I’d like to fantasize that I’m living with the good Captain but the truth is, I’m not. My benevolent benefactor (BB) exudes hunkiness, but he’s no Han Solo, although he could probably fix all that’s wrong with the Millennium Falcon and I wouldn’t have to get out and push.
Mornings around the Misplaced Alaskan’s homestead usually start with the BB ignoring his alarms from 4:15am until I literally shove his ass out of bed at 4:45am. How anyone can sleep through alarms going off every 5 minutes astounds my little brain. And pisses me off to no end. To ensure that I’m unable to get back to sleep, he kindly turns on most of the lights in our little usually happy home, ensuring that I’m wide awake. Finally, around 5am, he loudly closes the door and starts up the truck (equipped with the loudest exhaust he could possibly buy the last time he had the system replaced after bottoming the truck out on Canadian roads).6am finds me starting to dream again only to have my own alarm clock go off at 6:20am. Grumpy is not even close to how I’m feeling. But I drag my happy ass out of bed knowing I’ll be able to send the child off to school and snuggle back into bed for a wee bit longer.
After coaxing little man into taking his morning supplements and getting him dressed, we (im)patiently wait for the bus. FINALLY, around 7:30am, the yellow submarine pulls up and off he goes. I’m FREE until 2:30pm.
I contain myself and try not to run back into the house. I check twitter, email, my blog stats (cry) and finally Facebook. I try to catch up as I make and eat a breakfast of whatever I can grab (Pringles are a breakfast food, right?). I also set something out for dinner and start a sink full of dishes soaking. Once my tummy is full and I’m feeling ok with the amount of catching up I attempted (or I’m too sleepy to make a coherent sentence), I drag myself back to bed for a 2 hour nap.
Naptime!
Yes, two hours, hate me if you have to, but I’m old and I need naps to make it through the day. To make up for all the sleep I lose from the snoring that BB insists upon doing all night long. Bastard. Doesn’t he realize I’m a light sleeper? My dad used to say I could hear a mouse fart in a field an acre away. One of my many super powers, what can I say.
Around 11:30am, I get up for a real meal, usually a sandwich and sweet tea. This is when I start to think about writing. It doesn’t always result in a blog post, but I do think about stuff; constipated cavemen, having dinner with Sasquatch, whatever. Which then leads to researching and then I get distracted by Pinterest. Or Twitter. Or my email. Or…well, you know how that goes.
Somewhere between then and noon-thirty, I wash all the dishes and then an overpowering desire to shower infiltrates my body and I bath and dress. I wish I could do it right after the kid goes to school but it just never seems to work out that way. Anywho, I get defunkified and with a clear head, write a tad. It might only be a note about a future blog post, but I write ‘something.’
T-Rex (Photo credit: mcdlttx)
At 2:10pm, my alarm goes off notifying me that little man just boarded his bus bound for home. Somewhere close to 2:30, the bus squeals to a stop in front of the house and out jumps the kid, all smiles and full of piss and vinegar. Good thing I squeezed in that nap, cuz this is where the T-Rex comes in. He comes into the house like a T-Rex attacks a herd of tasty tourists stranded on an island without power. It’s all I can do to get a snack into him before he unleashes mayhem on his room.
For the next two hours, the kid and I play games, practice sounds, chase each other and do the mommy/son bonding thing. Then the phone call from BB at 4:15 dictates that I start dinner and play time comes to an end. Any dishes left in the sink get washed and left to dry in the dish rack. Nope, no dishwasher for this girl. It’s been two hellacious years since I was blessed with an electric powered dishwasher. I pine for modern conveniences.
BB bursts into the house at 4:40ish and the second round of pandemonium is unleashed like a pack of wolves arriving back at the den after a successful hunt. I retreat to the kitchen to make a meaty dinner for the carnivores. The feeding frenzy ensues around 6pm followed by a hockey game on the NHL channel unless the season is over and then it’s whatever BB deems worthy of watching.
Child and BB cuddle on the sofa and spend time together doing the daddy/son stuff while I try to catch up on Facebook, twitter, and blog comments. Finally, at 8pm, they saunter off to the bathroom for the nightly bedtime ritual and quiet settles over the household again. Once little man is tucked in, hubby sets the coffee pot and lays out his work clothes. A few minutes to catch up from the day and he’s off to bed by 9:00pm. This is where the Crown comes in. When I hear the rafters reverberating with the sounds of his snoring, I pour myself a c’n’c and write until I get tired or distracted. This is when the creative juices tend to work their magic. Or the Llama sends me a message that she’s bored at work and needs someone to keep her awake. Like a bestie, I oblige her. Happily. Cuz I’m awesome like that. Another of my super powers.
Once the Crown relaxes my mind and I’ll be able to sleep through the snoring, I head off to bed to start it all over again. Unless tomorrow is BB’s odd day off. And then, all hell breaks loose and the rules go out the window like the Millennium Falcon in an asteroid field.
