I awake. The sun is shining in through my venetian blinds and my mouth is as dry as a lint trap. Still, I don’t like to rush myself in the morning. My brain takes about the same about of time to reboot as a computer with a floppy disc drive, so I can’t just leap out of bed and hydrate myself. I start off slow by sending incoherent and often-inappropriate text messages to friends and sometimes (if my finger slips) acquaintances. I don’t worry about it too much. Everyone is at work and probably won’t check their messages till their lunch break in about an hour. By that time I am watching The View and can hardly be pulled away to respond to a “What the hell?!” text message from a friend of a friend. Whoopi and the gals are just too captivating.
If I’m lucky someone who loves me will invite to me eat with him or her. If they are lucky I have showered and put on pants. Usually I go over to my friend’s house as she feels some sort of need to ensure I receive sustenance. I think she is partial to me. She’ll make me a grilled cheese and some soup and for a change I’ll sit on her couch and watch he TV. We have different cable packages so for me this is seeing how the other half lives. After her lunch hour is up she drops me off at home and goes back to work.
I usually have some sort of around the house task to perform or if I am lucky I’ll have an errand to run. This eats up a lot of my time because I am not terribly gifted with logistics. Should I clean the shower before the counter? Should I go return those movies now? Or should I go to the grocery store first and then walk? It’s not the performing of the tasks that eats up time but the thinking about them that can fill hours.
Mid-Afternoon (15 minutes):
I rest my eyes for a while because I am exhausted from my trip into the outside world (a sentence and an occurrence that puzzles and confuses me) Around this time my brother comes home and gives me classic sibling ribbing, saying things like: “Have you left the apartment today?” or “Are those bed sores?” He’s a real character. He also gets me food and that’s pretty good.
I usually try to sit down and do something productive, like, I don’t know? Write? Sometimes things come to be. Other times I chase them around in my brain and have to sit down and take a breath. Writing is exhaustive process. First there is the crippling self-doubt, which can cause me to stay away from it even when I have an idea. Then there is the simply matter of supply and demand. No one is telling me to write anything, or to have it finished by a particular time, which makes me want to hold off till someone does or do it till I’m read in the face just for spite. But mostly I just wait for people to come online on Facebook and harass them into telling me that I’m pretty.
Put on pajamas. Lay motionless on the sofa.
One time I went out and had drinks with friends. The memory of that night will surely keep me feeling warm and fuzzy for a long time. It had better anyways because typically I sit at home and watch TV on my computer till the early morning. Which, you know, is just a different kind of fun!