i generally wake up at 5:16am when the alarm goes and the doctor jumps up to turn it off but since it’s on my side and i can’t reach the button to dispower it, i hit snooze. then i hand over the smokes and ashtray, after taking one for myself. he gets up and i hear thumping and the fridge opening, shutting and water running and if i was a coffee drinker, it would be the nabob moment. sit up, stretch and smile because i had smelled the gorgeous aroma. i am not a coffee drinker. the alarm sounds again, and this time i sit up, because i can reach the button it if i do.
i stumble into the bathroom for the first of about 20 trips of the day, hastily pulling on a robe while the cat circles my ankles and eventually either jumps into the sink or flops onto her side and stretches. all while “meeeeeeeeeeeeeew”ing. then i shuffle into the kitchen, normally at the same time as the cafe is done doing it’s drippy dance and the doctor is in a mad scramble for caffeine. i plug in the kettle trying to not get in his way, shut the cupboard doors that have almost all become opened even though i shut them all the night before (ahem, it’s an OCD thing – open doors and drawers make me itchy), and prep the tea mug. this means reusing or getting a new tea bag and dropping 2 sugar cubes in the bottom and maybe the coffee spoon, if the doctor is done with it. i also have to feed the cat if he hasn’t yet, even though she is never without food in her dish, cos she will continue to “meeeeeeeeeeeeeew” until someone does.
then i put together a lunch for the glasshole. it usually consists of an attempted balance of the recommended daily intakes of food groups. sometimes, i’ve not done the grocery shopping or there are no dinner leftovers, this is when his lunch is lacking in nutriition and balance. an example: today was left over pasta with 2 different granola bars, some carrots and dip and cookies. he gets something different and exactly the same everyday. he is a creature of eating habit, until he gets sick of something for a time, and then a new food habit is born. soon, he will tire of granola bars and then it will probably be back to instant oatmeal or fruit. note the lack of dairy products. you cannot put a lot of dairy into a lunch that may be eaten adjacent to a 2000 degree glory hole. it’s just too fun for bacteria.
after that i pour the hot water into my tea cup, stir it enough to melt the sugar and dispose of or store the tea bag on it’s mini teapot-shaped resting place, depending on whether it was a new bag or had only been used once before. i drink my tea so weak that a bag can last me 3+ cups, but i usually only drink 2 a day, and am not a fan of potential mold growth in day-old bags…so that’s the true dilemma.
then i read the headlines on CKNW radio, which is usually streaming on our computer and check my spam while the doctor is in the shower, doing whatever men do in the shower that takes a quarter the time that women do. he pours himself another cup of coffee after emerging dressed and not invigorated, but rarely drinks more than a fifth of it. he throws his lunch from the fridge into his backpack, and i watch to see if there are any signs of disapproval.
for some reason, being a good cook and/or lunch maker is paramount to my identity. i really would like to be june cleaver, less the pointy bra and with a hobby of attending adult education classes – in arts, social sciences, home crafts and languages. and maybe a hobby of joining ward in his martinis. but i don’t like martinis, so scratch that and change it to caesars (how i’ve missed ye).
then he kisses me goodbye and i say something sincere but glib, like “try to have a good day”. we don’t say i love you and he usually says “uh huh, call you later” because how good his day will be depends on how tired he is and if he is hungover and how hot the shop is in ratio to the outside world. and because he calls me on his lunch break, almost everyday. it makes me feel special that he wants to talk to me, if only for a minute or two, just 5 hours after leaving and before returning.
i read some more emails, some of the blogs that i know are usually updated by this time (about 6:05am), drink my tea and may eat some breakfast in the form of cereal or a bagel with peanut butter. if i’m not hungry, i will just smoke until my tea is done, visit the bathroom for trip number 2 of 20 and then settle into my bed with a smattering of pillows, another cup of tea, a book or some crocheting and occassionally, my cat. i will attempt relaxational productivity, but if reading i start to nod and if crocheting i may get bored or get joint pain. usually this leads to me setting the alarm for 2 hours later, crashing and then hitting snooze repeatedly until i actually get up, sometime between 9 and 11.
some more blogging, generally and if i didn’t eat breakfast at 6, i do now. my last week has had the kink in it that our plumbing is being worked on from 10am to 5pm, so i generally will hop onto msn messenger and see who’s around and then do some dishes and some cleaning that will require water. i’ve been nesting, so there’s been a lot of mopping as of late.
the doctor calls at 11ish, on his lunch and i say how’s it going and he says it’s going. then he’ll maybe have a story to tell or let me know what is going great production wise or what is going shitty. he gets off the phone to eat and smoke and return to the glassmines. two minutes have passed.
some more blogging and reading of blogs, checking of emails and myspace, msn conversation and i usually end up going to get my starbuck chai tea latte fix around 1pm. this means: a) getting dressed; b) potentially brushing my teeth; c) running other errands; d) going out in society for longer than wished, since the old, next door starbucks has closed and now i must walk an extra 3 blocks and e) checking the mail. i enjoy only checking the mail, unless errands include having to go to london drugs or shoppers drug mart, which is the equivalent of designer clothes shopping for me. if i get junk mail, i am even happier.
when home again, depending on the time, i will likely hop back on the internet or read or crochet some more. because of this routine, the baby blanket is nearly 1/3 done and my friends’ afghan is about 1/6 done, even though i am a slow, perfectionistic crocheter, prone to removing whole rows because they don’t look smooth enough to my naked eye. maybe i do some more cleaning. i eat something, usually a melange of snack foods or small non-meal items because i’ve always been the person who would order 3 sides at a restaurant, instead of an entree.
i start dinner sometimes, half an hour before the doctor is due home. these are usually the days that: a) he stays late or b) isn’t hungry when he gets home at about 4pm. if i do not start dinner, he will likely be home on time or even early and will be starving and i will not be in the mood to jump up and make it.
we will spend some amount of time, depending on the bullshit to funny to positive stories ratio, talking about his day. the more bullshit laden the more i make what i think of as calming, moderating comments. the more funny stories, the more i crack up and am relaxed and shake my head at the right points and say things like “well, you know so and so…” the more positively infused stories, the more supportive and “see, i told you you were awesome” type comments i make. my mood is entirely dependant on his.
we will eat dinner and he will sometimes play video games and sometimes read, during which times i will read or crochet or putter, cleaning, partly because i didn’t finish it during the day and partly to make myself feel more productive and also partly to possible inspire him to do the same (but only in
my way and only out of my way) and sometimes we’ll watch a movie, me slumped on the couch with 3 pillows that he has grabbed to support my back – which at this point of the day is hurting badly – or we play online poker, with me perched on his lap. depending on
what we do, we may go to bed anywhere between 7:30 and 11pm.
also because of the plumbing repair, i have been more diligent about showering, so i will take a shower or bath in the hour or two before bedtime, depending on my level of boredness and how much my back is aching. more bored and more achy = shower. not bored and manageable achiness = lack of hygiene.
in bed, i will read or crochet some more, maybe with another cup of tea or a glass of water or milk and i will semi chain smoke, limiting myself to a half every hour until my eyes start to drop and i yawn more than not. this is when i can turn out the light, and attempt sleep.
this is also when i will wrestle for covers, even though i’m hot, just to be able to wedge them under the tummy that now hangs downward since i have to sleep on my side and gravity effects pregnant bellies. i will sigh copious amounts, even though the doctor is already sleeping and engaged in some kicking and rolling and teeth grinding. he can’t hear the distain at having to wrench covers from underneath him, as he’s usually lying atop 60% of them, face down and butt nakid. i stop sighing during the times that he is obviously dreaming and talking in his sleep. i always try to decipher it, the sleep talk, but only have gotten it done successfully twice in our relationship. both times gave great results in the area of “never gonna let you live this one down,” which is why i keep listening.
eventually sleep comes, if even for a couple hours (when i will wake up and eat something and visit the bathroom for the 20th of 20 times). and the next day starts at 5:16am, when the alarm goes and the doctor jumps up to turn it off but i hit snooze.
i don’t remember anymore how i got this stuff accomplished while working, as it seems there aren’t enough hours in the day, now.
