At about 6 a.m., I hear the alarm clock. My hubby is usually out of bed, dressed, and news-watching. I can hear the sounds of KREN TV. I turn over to continue my dreams, but it becomes apparent that my lovely dreams of owls and woodpeckers has dissipated in the morning air.
I stumble out of bed and rush to the toilet. After relieving myself, I walk into the kitchenette, grab a cup of water and pills. I down them to the grunts of my husband and the incomprehensible noise from the T.V.
About thirty minutes later, waiting to see if I have successfully digested the first pills, I get a cup of coffee. This is the bright part of my day. I start to wake up. I see the birds rush to the balcony, looking for seeds and waters.
After that morning kiss at 7:30 as the hubby rushes to work, I look through my emails, check opportunities for reviews, and make it to the Helium site. Sometimes I throw some beans for dinner on the stove. I do it the oldfashioned way. I have sailors in the family: my dad and my now-dead grandpa.
Soak my beans overnight and then throw them in the pot in the morning. It usually takes all day to cook to an edible soupy stew. I use a ham bone, cooking wine, carrots, and chicken broth. I have a couple more seasoning secrets like pepper and onion, but really it is as simple as that.
It try to get some writing in by eleven. Then I pack up the laundry, see below post. By that time I am dang it tired. I try to get my supplements in during the day. By the time my hubby gets home for work, I usually have my house smelling like food. These smells are very important to a Cancer. It makes him smile as he walks in the door.
Some days, I write two hours and some days I write six hours. When I don’t feel good, like the time I caught the crud, I don’t write at all.
So if you thought my life was about debauchery and the occult, wrong. 😉
Okay, maybe the occult. (waggle eyebrows)
I close my day with a pill that causes dizziness and fainting if taken while walking. So I go to sleep grateful for another day. Living by legal chemical means… this was not what I was expecting when I hit middle-age.