Thursday, February 9, 2012

The Morning

Mornings are the worst. I didn't sleep well. This particular morning I awake with Pearl Jam rocking in my head. I'm not sure where it came from, but I'm not terribly disappointed that it's there. As I lay there half awake, I try to clear my head. I've purposely set the alarm clock wrong in an effort to trick myself into getting up early. It never works. I've become too smart to trick myself.

I lay motionless. I say a prayer, asking my God to give me strength for the day ahead. I'm not sure if he hears me, but I like to think He does, plus it gives me a sense of security. A feeling of having my own personal body guard for the day.

In the shower thoughts of my daily tasks creep up. Things that need done today. People I need to speak with, meetings I have. Things I've no doubt put off doing that have now reached crunch time. I tell myself that one day I'm gonna be pro active and not wait till the last minute to do things. I know it's a lie but somehow it reassures me that things will be better. That I'll change.

Brushing my teeth and fixing my hair I try not to focus on the body I've clearly let go over the last year. Bending over brushing ones teeth really does accentuate the need to lose weight. I know this yet everyday I choose to ignore it. I'm sure she sees too, along with the increasing amount of grey hair that's beginning to cover my body. She never mentions it.

I get dressed in a dimly lit room. I'm considerate enough to keep quiet as she sleeps, even though I'm jealous. Jealous that she sleeps while I get dressed before the sun comes up. Jealous that I physically cannot stay up as late as she can. Jealous that I have to leave in general. My jealousy is not rage, its just pure innocent jealousy. As pure and innocent as jealousy can be I suppose. I find socks in the laundry basket that has managed to become a permanent fixture on our hope chest. I search for two that are colored. I've come to grips with the fact that having matching socks has no overall bearing on my life. I no longer try to match 'em, as long as they're both dark, I'm satisfied.

As the coffer maker warms up I feed the animals who have begun to stir. They both act as if they haven't eaten in days. Around here I'm not so sure that isn't the case. I let Maggie outside. She's a good dog that I sometimes think got in with the wrong family. We rescued her from the pound years ago, before the clowns came, so I guess our rescuing her was better than her alternative. But since then she's become more like the old in-law that moves in with you. You hate that she's there but you can't throw her out.The cat follows me through the house puring. He follows and willingly shows affection with every step. It's the only time of the day in which he shows any type of appreciation. Usually he's running for his life. Running to stay away from the boy.

Before I leave I check on each of my clowns. They sleep. Safe. Sound. I already miss them. My entire routine takes me half an hour, twenty minutes if needed.


  1. I loved reading this. Such an honest look through your eyes. Thanks for sharing. :)

  2. Great look into your life. And I laughed out loud at the brushing your teeth part! So very true! :-)

    Also, the laundry basket? Us too. We've accepted it. And you did know that if you wear mismatched socks it means you are cool right? I mean my 15 yo sister-in-law does it and she's one of the cool kids. Yay for you!