“Oh, is it morning already?” I stretch and chastise myself for staying up too late and wasting the best part of the day. I vow to go to bed earlier tonight. Sure! Keep reading, you’ll find out why I can’t.
"Hmm, wonder what time hubby left. I didn’t hear a thing."
I stumble around the bed as I spread up the rumpled covers, always cursing that jiggling foot of hubby’s that manages to untuck the blankets and sheet from the end of the bed no matter how tightly or far I push them beneath the mattress. I suppose it’s a small price to pay for having such a good man in my life…as long as he isn’t underfoot. When he retires, I’ll probably go to prison for shooting him. My patience wears much thinner and more quickly these days.
Bed made, I find my glasses on the nightstand and survey my work. Usually, the pillows are off center and I adjust them. Don’t know why…no one ever sees my bedroom, but it’s a habit mom taught me. Make the bed and never ever sit on it. It’s for sleeping and nothing else. Well, maybe something else, but that’s private and as much as I'm going to share. *smile*
Scurry to the bathroom in the slippers I swear never to wear because they leave black scuffs on the kitchen floor and fur balls on the carpet. But they do keep my toes warm. No chance of falling down stairs as I’ve done in most other places I’ve lived, so I figure if I break a hip, it won’t be because of my house shoes.
I brush my teeth, run a comb through my “Dennis the Menace” coiffure, sneer into the mirror at the blanket creases and new wrinkles, but still wash my face and add the anti-aging moisture cream that pledged I wouldn’t look like this. Off to the kitchen.
Take my morning pills, grab my coffee and sit at the computer. Sigh! I really need to take a look at the finances, but first I open outlook so my email can download. Big mistake. I see a post from someone I know flash by, in the middle of the digested group posts. I have to click on it, just in case someone needs something or wants to blog on “Dishin’ It Out.” What can it hurt? It’s only one message.
Glance at the clock on the bottom of the monitor. The mail has probably come. Better check there in case there’s something else to add to the payment pile. Stand, put on my “check the mail sandals” and hurry across the back yard. Short trip…I live in a condo. Back at my desk, after locking the back door, I wonder, did I lock the door? Get up, check it. Yep.
Survey the mail, toss most of it, but leave things aside I think Kelly might want to see. Back to email. Read and respond to a few posts, stop and pull out the calculator and the bills. See another email flash by. Stop and read. Follow a link to a trailer. “Oh, how cute,” I mutter. I need to work on one for my upcoming novel. Of course I have to do for my friend, Marie, as soon as she sends me her cover. See a link on the sidebar and follow it. End up an hour later, realizing I still haven’t done the bills. Nagging voice in my head reminds me I spent over a hundred dollars on the Wii Exercise Video and Step. Yeah, yeah…I’ll get to it. If not today, tomorrow for sure.
“Not now,” I chastise the voice in my head. Joy wants me to add something to her story. Oh, Joy’s Revelation is the title of one of many WIPS. But maybe I should write it down before I forget.
Word program open, I find Joy’s story and add the needed piece. Now I’m engrossed in writing and the next time I glance at the clock, two more hours have passed. Great! I stare at the bills still piled on my desk. The rent is due, and I do like having a roof over my head.
I close Joy’s story and open the spreadsheet where I list what needs to be paid. It’s great for tracking and making sure I don’t miss anything. I go through and enter all the amounts. Log onto BofA Online Banking, and while it loads, I switch over to outlook. Skim through the messages again, get caught up in the Muse Gab room, and another glance at the clock…. I’ve been there a whole hour? How can that be?
Click back to BofA. Timed out! Crap. Have to log back in. This time I stay there, determined to finish what I started. “Oh, I have an instant message.”
Click over. It’s my friend in
. We chat for a while. Oh geez, another hour gone. Back to the bank, and I finally manage to get things organized and ready for payment. Kansas
“Joy, will you just shut up? I’ll get to you later. You, too, Rob. Yes, I know I promised to find you a woman. I’m workin’ on it.” Rob’s the lead in my retired basketball romance, Rebound. At least he doesn’t nag as much as the female characters.
Phone call. My DIL. She wants to know if I can keep Spencer for an hour or so while she runs to the doctor. Of course. I love my little Pook! What? They’re in the parking lot. It can’t be that late already. I answer the door, my legs wobbly from having sat so long.
Pookie in and playing his games in the living room. I return to my trusty desk. Are you friggin’ kidding me? I have 175 emails. I’d better skim through them again.
“Nene,” I hear from the living room. “I’m hungry.”
Cookies and milk served, I waddle back to my desk, determined to pay the damn bills and decide what to fix for dinner. Oh right, I need to check my emails again. Another hour spent responding or weeding through “thank you, you’re welcome, congratulations…those one and two word posts that are so annoying. But, I do it too. Pot calling the kettle black.
DIL back to pick up Spencer. We chat for a while, and they leave. I’m back at the computer staring at the bills. Well, I do have another day. I’ll do them in the morning, for sure. I push the stack to the side and decide to check out Ancestry.com before my membership expires. I don’t stay long because I’ve hit a dead end. Everyone came from
and I’m not paying for international info. Russia
Insert a potty break between everything…seems my patience isn’t the only thing wearing thin these days. The old bladder ain’t what she used to be.
Back to the emails, following links to blogs, reading, commenting, answering other posts, and agonizing over the books I have yet to read for review. The front door opens and I turn. My jaw drops when I see hubby. “What the heck are you doing home already?”
“Have you been at the computer all day again?” he asks.
“Of course not,” I lie as I meander into the kitchen, picking up fuzz balls and wiping up black marks on the linoleum. “I was just about to get up and fix you something to eat.”
Okay, so now I think you see why I have to stay up until How else can I get anything done? But then I discover that’s when my friends across the pond are online and posting. I’m doomed, I tell you, doomed!
So, make sure to visit my blog. I need more people commenting to add even more to my time schedule. There's always someone interesting there, Dishin' It Out.