It seems I only update my blog posts when something exciting happens causing me to react, like attending a writer’s conference or reading a good book. Everyday life does not foster good story. For example, here is my day so far; it’s pretty bland.
Get up at 6:30. Brush teeth, wash face and Feed the cats. Have to put Pablo in the garage while ADD senior cat Henry dawdles to finish his meal. If I don’t put the big white boy in the garage he vacuums up all the food. He’s hefty. He can use a few fewer nuggets of IAMS.
Get dressed. I am feeding Elizabeth’s cat today, and need to go spend some time with Pickles. Pablo, perhaps sensing I will be cheating on him with another cat, leaps onto my bed and distracts me with his cute cat poses that beg for me to stop dressing so I can pet him.
Pet Pickles profusely before I fill his bowl. He glances at the food dish, but seeks out my hand for a few more strokes before he takes his first bite. Read from Middlemarch (my book club book) on my kindle while the cat eats.
Stop at Giacomo's to eat and write. I have half a breakfast sandwich (you don’t want to order a whole one unless you are a stevedore or have been fasting for a week. They’re enormous.) with a side order of mixed fresh fruit and a cafe Americano.
Write. I am editing my dreadful YA draft. Making it less dreadful.
Recognize a couple in the restaurant and try to figure out how I know them. When I get up to refill my coffee I stop and ask them it turns out their son graduated from the High school where I teach. We chat about his success for a few minutes. His mother shares Facebook pictures of his son on her mini iPad.
I sit down and edit a few more paragraphs. A retired teacher from my school comes in carrying her granddaughter. We exchange chat about her current job and her children.
When I get home:
Go to the basement and dump the water out of the dehumidifier. It’s a daily thing, sometimes twice daily, on humid days. If I don’t, the basement starts to smell like a Florida swamp.
Plug in my iPad to charge it up and also do cloud backup. Eat a tablespoon of peanut butter and share the soiled spoon with Henry who will howl like a coyote until I give him a taste.
Watch The View where they show a video clip of a cat riding a Roomba dressed in a shark costume.
Check my snail mail. I get an advance copy of a new YA novel called brother. Cool! Summer reading. Maybe I will blog about this book.
Turn the volume down on The View so I don’t have to listen to Snookie. Seriously?
The clouds still threaten to storm, but all that rain sits up there like a boil just getting bigger. I’d like to reach up and pop it.
The volume is not low enough . Snookie claims to be somewhat of an expert on motherhood. “I went to high school,” she says. “I know what I’m doing.” Where is the mute button on this thing?