Where I chronicle my Monday mornings
This Monday, I figured I’d share a little bit about what my Monday mornings are like. Because things on my end are downright crazy. – Weekends are more structured than they used to be, but since I have a 6am videoteleconference with my team in Manila, things are truly a whirlwind around me until I get to work.
My alarm goes off, insanely early, at 4:10. My first thought is “I’m not running, so let me reset the alarm.” Fortunately, an inner voice tells me that resetting the alarm isn’t an option – it’s Monday, and I have my 6am meeting.
I find clothes to dress myself in to walk the dogs, because I’m pretty certain that walking about nude and/or in my skivvies would be bad. Even at 4 in the morning, it’s not a good idea to indecently expose myself unnecessarily.
I then try to calm the one dog down because walks are his most favoritist thing in the whole wide word while also trying to motivate the other dog to walk with promises of steak & bacon because he’s lazy and would rather be in bed. Eventually, I give up on the promises and pick up said grumpy dog (causing much growling) and take the dogs for a walk.
We walk about a mile . . . and wouldn’t you know it, there’s a neighbor out & about, so I’m especially grateful that I didn’t decide that today was the day that I’d be able to streakwalk. At some point, while reading through tweets & deleting junk mail, I nearly trip over the curb, which is minor compared to the “introduce myself to a tree” or “introduce myself to a parked minivan” that I normally pull while not paying attention to the world.
Anyway, I get back with the dogs and feed them (the lazy, unmotivated dog is now quite eager to be awake because he loves food) and start making myself coffee. Soon into the coffee making process, though, I realize that Snickelfritz, the dog who doesn’t like walks but loves food, is eating from the bowl of Hobbes, the dog who loves walks but is very “meh” about food. After separating the two of them, I go back to preparing the coffee. I hit “go” and head upstairs, convincing the dogs to come back with me, where they promptly lie back down and go back to sleep.
I get into the shower where I think I fell asleep four separate times.
After showering, I dress for work . . . which means jeans, because I like “comfortable.” I grab the laptop and
wine glass solo cup from the bedside table, kiss my wife goodbye, and tiptoe my way downstairs, careful not to wake the wife or babies sleeping in my bed.
I get downstairs and remember that it’s trash day. This would have been handy information the previous night, when I could have been all orderly & stuff. So, I head back upstairs and grab the bag of dirty diapers from the nursery, and then I grab the dirty diaper bag from the kitchen (we have changing stations both upstairs and downstairs), as well as the kitchen trash bag and take them outside.
I realize that I was wearing socks but not shoes, and dew on the socks doesn’t feel all that great.
Put on shoes.
Make three trips to take out all recycling.
Walk back upstairs to replace trash bag in nursery diaper bin.
Leave house but realize that I forgot my laptop.
Get laptop and realize that I forgot my coffee.
Go to my truck to get my coffee mug and return to house to fill it.
As I fill my coffee mug, see the pile of mini-strawberry danishes that I bought for myself last Friday. Eat one. Bring another for “breakfast.” Because breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Remember “project frugal” where I try to bring lunch into work. Find leftover Chinese food and realize that it’s swimming in sauce. Go to dump excess sauce down the drain. Spill excess sauce on my shoes. Marvel that I’ll smell like garlic sauce all day.
Try to think back to last week to remember if I used my “emergency shirt” at the gym1 and decide to go back upstairs to grab a shirt to work out in, in the case that I’m able to sneak off to the gym over lunch. I’m somehow able to get back upstairs and grab a shirt without stubbing my toe, startling either dog into a barking frenzy, or waking my kids. I’m proud of myself.
Finally leave. I plan, every Monday, to be out of the house by 5 . . . and, like most Mondays, I was on the road by 5:30 – giving me a whole 2 minutes to catch my breath when I get to the office before my video teleconference starts.
It turns out that I did not, in fact, use my emergency shirt, so I only wore my shorts twice, so they weren’t truly stinky, and I did get a pretty kick-ass workout in.