A day in the life.
I was inspired by Sheryl to break down my day for you. Then I realized how boring I actually am. Then I decided to do it anyway.
4:45 am: Wake up for the first time, flinging myself towards my alarm clock in panic. I’m not already supposed to be awake, am I? Ahhh… I still have just over an hour.
5:00 am: Wakened again by one of the Bottle People who drive their shopping carts down our back alley, rooting through the recycle bins. One of the Bottle People is a nice lady — I talked to her once when I brought out a bunch of bottles when she was there. The other Bottle Person is likely mentally ill (he growls) or really, really pissed off (which is his right, of course) and likes to smash things that he feels he won’t yield a refund.
5:15 am: Damn crows. DAMN CROWS. SHUT UP. SERIOUSLY. AAAAAAAAAA. One of these days I have a date with a slingshot and Smarties. I will pelt them with sweetness.
5:30 am: My bed is the nicest place on earth. Seriously. Even if I need a new mattress and my pillows suck. Even if I just found a hole in my sheet. When it’s warm and soft, it’s PERFECT.
5:55 am: Argh. Must get up to take first shower before Catherine rolls out of bed.
6:00 am: Really. Get up. Get UP.
6:05 am: Mmmm. Warm water. I think everything I use in the shower either smells like coconut or mango, leaving the bathroom smelling like an umbrella drink at a resort.
6:15 am: Ow. Ow. Ow. Why is mouthwash so burn-y? Ah, yes, the alcohol. I think my tongue is disintegrating. Gag twice, spit.
6:20 am: Crawl back into bed for ten minutes, wrapped in towels. Ahhhh.
6:30 am: Mmmmm. Ten more minutes, please.
6:45 am: Oh, CRAP. Get up! GET UP.
6:47 am: I look like the undead. Extra blush it is!
6:51 am: My blow dryer smells like burning. Oh, now it’s smoking. Dammit. It’s a ponytail day. Or was that my hair that was smoking?
6:57 am: I look like a pinhead in a ponytail. Dammit.
7:01 am: Put on skirt I ironed last night. Shirt, however, is wrinkly. Is that a stain? Crap.
7:02 am: It’s a stain.
7:03 am: Is it really noticeable? Crap.
7:04 am: My cube faces away from everyone. I’ll just wear it.
7:05 am: Why is my bag such a mess? What the hell is this receipt for? Where are my headphones? Where is the top of my lipgloss? OH, EW. STICKY. EW.
7:06 am: Shoving everything into different bag.
7:07 am: Earrings! Earrings!
7:08 am: Take hair out of ponytail, twist and clip instead. There. Better. But hair is now too tight.
7:10 am: Keys… keys… keys. Oh, for the love…
7:12 am: Wave at Catherine eating breakfast, sprint out front door. Clicking madly through iPod tracks to find something fast and peppy and energizing. Hair still too tight.
7:13 am: Trip on bottom step. OW OW OW! Toenail is smashed. Just. Keep. Walking. Am distracted from tightness of hair.
7:14 am: Run down hill to catch bus. Stand amongst odd combination of yawning, lazily angry business people, cheerful old people, and iPodded kids going to private school.
7:17 am: Bus driver drives up on curb, nearly kills us all. No one blinks. Smile nicely at bus driver as I get on, hoping to live.
7:23 am: Change buses. Argh, no seats on this bus. Oooh! Attractive Bald Guy is at the back! Yay.
7:24 am: Attractive Bald Guy smells like cinnamon.
7:28 am: Fall asleep standing up. iPod is playing sleepy music. Dammit. I just flailed in front of Attractive Bald Guy.
7:47 am: Get off bus. Try not to trip. Ahh! Ahh! Almost tripping! Nope, made it.
7:48 am: Run to catch Shortest Traffic Light Of All Time. Miss it. Run straight into traffic anyhow.
7:49 am: Narrowly miss being killed by purple PT Cruiser being driven by a woman with large hair.
7:50 am: Stop in at indie cafe to get cup of coffee to bring to work. Loosen still-too-tight hair. Ahhh. Coffee AND unstretched face.
7:56 am: Wait to catch World’s Most Erratic Elevator.
7:57 am: Stand in silence with 9 other people as elevator does whatever it wants, visiting the basement and the 7th floor before it stops on mine. Man next to me is listening to Def Leppard on his iPod. REALLY LOUDLY. Pour Some Sugar On Me, INDEED.
7:59 am: Sprint towards cube, and…
8:00 am: Start work! By drinking coffee! And chatting! And discussing Jon Stewart! And checking blogs!
8:07 am: Morning meeting. Explain what I am doing for the day inarticulately, drink deeply of the Sweet Nectar of Life.
8:11 am: Go to staff kitchen. Pour bowl of Cheerios. Discover that there is no milk. Consider Cheerios with orange juice. Feel queasy. Take bowl to desk to eat dry Cheerios.
8:13 am: Get dry-Cheerio hiccups.
8:14 am: Hold breath for inordinately long time. Lose hiccups. Also lose breath. Take hit off asthma puffer.
8:15 am: Open Dreamweaver, begin coding and formatting text.
9:30 am: Answer work emails. Avoid including any swear words.
10:00 am: Curse Dreamweaver to the heavens. Restart computer. Text Catherine. More Dreamweaver.
10:30 am: Short discussion of Brandon Davis breaks out amongst the cubes. Conclusion: IDIOT.
11:30 am: Wander down street in search of coffee. Find both coffee shops with lineups out the door. Choose lineup with the least angry-looking businesspeople. Order a VERY VERY BIG COFFEE. Pay with Interac. Feel stares of lineup burning a hole in my back. Flee coffee shop with my hot cup of redemption.
11:45 am: Write something foolish, place on blog. Receive text message from Eric indicating he just got up. Curse Eric.
11:50 pm: Dreamweaver, Dreamweaver, weave me a dream, pour me a coffee, make it with cream…
1:00 pm: Research industry stuff.
2:00 pm: Get piece back from editors, implement changes for publication. Get really funny phone call from Cath. Laugh too loudly in my cube.
3:00 pm: Send piece to copyediting. Check personal email. Mourn lack of email.
3:05 pm: Put second dumb blog entry of day up. Cringe at lack of creativity.
3:20 pm: Answer more work emails.
3:45 pm: Implement copyedits. Do small dance near copyeditor’s desk.
4:00 pm: Send piece off to approval. Do small dance in editors’ office.
4:15 pm: Surf blogs for a few minutes. Realize I didn’t eat lunch.
4:30 pm: Answer last work emails of day, futz with Dreamweaver, tidy up desk.
4:35 pm: Head down to catch the bus. Get stuck on elevator in basement. Put calming music on iPod.
4:40 pm: Am finally released from elevator hell.
4:45 pm: Catch bus, find self in the midst of rabid tourists with digital cameras and maple leaf shirts. Take photo of Japanese couple waving, give camera back. Wish that I didn’t have to give camera back… much better than mine.
5:00 pm: Change buses. Ahhh, there’s a seat. Put Chopin on iPod, fall asleep nearly immediately.
5:20 pm: Wake up slightly too late for stop. Prepare for walk backwards to Whole Foods.
5:30 pm: Walk into sheer bliss a.k.a the Whole Foods Produce Section and buy Weird Mushrooms or Very Red Tomatoes.
5:40 pm: Fall in love with peonies in the floral section. Resist buying. Buy weird organic juice instead. It tastes like grass.
5:45 pm: Head out of Whole Foods, catch bus home. Sit next to man who talks to himself AND to my bag from Whole Foods.
6:05 pm: Arrive home, head for Martin (my iBook) and start him up as I put my stuff away, take chicken out of the freezer, put on yoga pants (AHHHHHHHHHHH.)
6:15 pm: Hang out with Catherine (if she’s home) debriefing day, checking email, surfing blogs.
6:20 pm: Laugh so hard at a bank story (from Catherine) that I roll off the couch. Lie on floor for a while because it feels really good. Mmmm, floor.
6:30 pm: Watch dumb decorating shows or A&E crime shows while doing other stuff around the house. I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF BILL KURTIS. SERIOUSLY.
7:30 pm: Start dinner. Usually some variation on chicken and salad or curry or a stir fry or pasta. I’m SOOOO exciting. Make phone calls while I cook.
8:00 pm: Get sidetracked making dinner because Cath wants to get coffee and go for a drive. I can always eat later. Or not. Eh. Sometimes I really just forget to eat most of the day.
8:10 pm: In the car, singing loudly along with CD’s, heading for one of our favourite coffee places. Oh, who am I kidding. If they sell coffee, they are one of my favourite places.
8:20 pm: Decaf somethingorothers in hand, we swerve down the road, still singing at the top of our lungs.
9:00 pm: Home. Dinner. Maybe. Or Ben and Jerry’s Vermonty Python. Mmmm sweet, cold dinner.
10:00 pm: I should really post to my blog. And return some emails. Or… take a hot shower. Mmmmm, hot shower.
10:30 pm: Mmmm, H2O Body Butter… smells like SOFT.
10:40 pm: Post to blog… return emails… with Martin… in bed. Sleep experts be damned, I bring the lappie to bed.
11:20 pm: Turn light out. Listen to various neighbours returning home and remote-locking their cars. HONK. HONK. HONK. HONK. CAN YOU PEOPLE NOT DO THAT SILENTLY.
12:00 am: Listen to cat freaking out next door — sounds like he’s being put through a LaLanne juicer.
12:30 am: A bottle person? At this time of night?
1:00 am: Zzzzzzzzzzzz.
