Half a Day in the Life

Inspired by reading the daily routines of famous writers and that one by Ben Franklin (which he just could not have kept consistently, right?), I thought I’d investigate my own routines. This is really the morning from a few days ago, but let’s pretend it was yesterday’s:

5:00am: Loki puts forth a persuasive argument in favor of waking up. Refusing to accept its validity, Ken and I defensively point out surface flaws and straw men.

6:45am: He tries to convince us again. (Shoot! I should have gotten up 15 minutes ago!) I get up to take care of his urological and gastrological needs. While he’s eating breakfast (he knocks it out of a toy), I brush my teeth and put some jojoba oil on my face. (Both Ken and I are cursed with dry skin–me from my acne medicine, Ken from his genetic propensity toward psoriasis–aggravated in the winter. Our future children may be smart but skin-problem prone.)

I start my coffee: boil water, grind beans, pour beans, pour water, wait four minutes, and press both together.

7:25am: We all pile into the living room to our respective posts: Ken to the couch to continue sleeping (he works at night); Loki to the window, to watch the world for us; and me, to my laptop. Loki quickly follows Ken back into slumberland.

7:30am: Since I have already started writing this, I bum around the internet a little more quickly, and begin editing an ebook, editing a website, and looking for more gigs. I find one possible job that involves handwriting telemarketing materials. I add that to a list of day-dreamable jobs (ones that give me pause but don’t compel me to apply), like Sports Writer or Maple Sugaring Assistant.

10am: We take Loki to the park and play hide and seek among the trees.

10:45am: We return home, and write to-do lists for the rest of the day. I start making a quick cobb salad for lunch.

12:00pm: Ken and I eat cobb salad, with a valuable lesson learned by noon: there are no quick cobb salads.

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Waiting for the Coffee to Kick In

Recovering from late-night partying. Sleep it out, pup.

Despite the sunshine flooding the room, everyone’s still dozing in here this morning. Traces of last night’s football watching festivities abound: crumpled fast food wrappers on the table, near empty glasses of water for guests, dog toys strewn about. Now, I’m sit at the tiny corner desk, and light snores are coming from spouse and pup alike on the other side of the room.

It’s a good time for me to get some projects done. Or, it would be. C’mon coffee, do your civic duty.