7:30 am - wake up, put on TV for Miss Peanut, roll over and cuddle for a while. I hate mornings, and waking up rarely leaves me cheerful. Miss Peanut usually wakes up slow, like me, and prefers to ease into mornings home with a cartoon or two. It reminds me of my grad school days when I would wake up during Winter Session and watch Sailor Moon before getting ready to teach my French class.
8:00 am - roll out of bed and head downstairs for breakfast. Miss Peanut requested pancakes and sausage. I pulled pancakes out of the freezer - they freeze very well, you know. Try it the next time you make some. Just remember to put them in individual freezer/sandwich bags. - and lovely chicken sausage out of the fridge. After a thin stream of canola oil hit the pan, I tossed some sausages in it. The kitchen soon became redolent with the aromas of sage and thyme. The pancakes were even easier - 30 seconds on each side in the
nuclear reactor microwave, and they were done. In about five minutes, Miss Peanut and I were enjoying hot multigrain pancakes and chicken sausage, both drenched in butter and deep-amber maple syrup. I don't know about you, but I love my breakfast meat floating in maple
syrup.
8:25 am - catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and scare the bejesus out of myself. I know that normally upon waking, I am no pre-Raphaelite beauty. In fact, I usually resemble an extremely grumpy and unkempt hedgehog, grumbling after being pulled rudely backwards through the hornbeam. This morning, though, I was rocking the fauxhawk. I ran for the bathroom to wet down the mess and try to mitigate the damage.
9:00 am - give up on hair, get dressed, and head out to the gym. Ever since receiving the
Edict from On High (surgeon's orders) to exercise, I have tried. In fact, my
only New Year's Resolution was to try to make exercise more of a priority. In this, I have succeeded. I dropped Miss Peanut in the Y's babysitting room - sheer Bedlam, from the looks of things - and headed to the locker room.
9:40 am - on the elliptical machine. Motherfucking cocksucking motherfucker, this goddamned cunting piece of shit machine is
still kicking my flat ass! Bloody buggery fucker! How can I
possibly only have done five minutes? I've been on this contraption for an eternity!
9:50 am - on the elliptical machine, still. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Maybe if I go backwards on this fucking thing, I won't feel the burning misery that are my quads. Wait! What?! Awkwardness!! Abort! Abort! Abort! What the fuck??!!! Oh, God, never again. Forwards only. How much longer do I have to go? Five more minutes? I'll never make it.
9:55 am -
WHAT?! What do you mean that I have FIVE FUCKING MINUTES of cool down to do? It used to be three minutes! Five minutes?! Give me a break. I'll never walk after this. I'll have to crawl down the hall to collect Peanut. Oh, ouch, this sucks.
10:00 am - Whew. Off the elliptical machine, on to the Nautilus machines. The nautilus machines are usually ok. I get in an abdominal workout, do my biceps and triceps, and find one machine that works my glutes. I have flat ass now. I want me some booty! The glute machine wasn't so much fun, but if it boosts my booty even a fraction of a millimeter northwards, it'll have been worth it.
10:20 am - in the car on the way home. Miss Peanut informs me that the babysitting center was "OK," and that all babies do is cry, cry, cry!
11:00 am - in the shower. Let's not go there. It's a freakshow of deflated skin and sagginess. Shut up. Just shut up.
12:30 am - have just been informed that it's time for lunch, and we're going to the Charcoal Pit. Hmmm, the Pit sounds good. I could just go for a cheeseburger. Miss Peanut is thrilled that we're going out to lunch, and I am thrilled that her choice meshes well with my plan for the rest of the day. I was going to take her out anyway, and was bracing for a fight. I REFUSE to go to McDonald's ever again. Well, not so much Mickey D's as much as any fast food restaurant where chicken nuggets and french fries are served. Ugh. I am no food snob, and I think that there should be some room in a child's diet for junk - I can personally attest to what happens to a person of my temperament and disposition when deprived of junk food; um, 300 pound woman say anything to you people? - but jaysus, let's not go overboard and make a steady diet out of the shite. But, I digress...
1:30 pm - discussing former students with another former student who happened to be sitting next to us at the Charcoal Pit. This kid is now a 911 dispatcher. Scary. Very scary. That's all I have to say about that.
2:30 pm - at Barnes and Noble, sitting stoically in the Children's section while Miss Peanut flits about trying to find a book. Thank god for the Starbuck's in B&N, that's all I've got to say. I endure massive whining after flatly refusing to buy any "toy books." You parents of girls will instantly understand. You know, they're pink, about Princesses or fairies or the like, and come with a doll, or stickers, or beads, or somesuch nonsense that distracts from actually
reading the book. Miss Peanut is starting to read now, so I'm pushing her toward Dr. Seuss and away from the "toy books." She gets a valentine book about Snoopy (it was 50% off, SCORE!) and I chose one called "Where is the green sheep?"
4:00 pm - elbow-deep in ground beef, eggs, and seasonings. Ahhhhh, meatloaf! Is there any dinner as comforting as meatloaf dripping with ketchup, mashed potatoes running with butter, and baby peas? Not in my opinion! Where the kitchen was earlier redolent with sage and thyme, it is now scented with ketchup and onion. I can almost taste the scrumptiousness of tonight's meal.
6:00 pm - on the internet, having consumed dinner, (Yes, it was indeed as good as anticipated, as few things rarely are.) and checking into all my internet friends' lives, via blogs and livejournals. Miss Peanut and the WCM are snuggled up together. A steady diet of Mama today has left Miss P with an appetite for Daddy cuddles. I'm ok with that, as I wouldn't mind some Daddy cuddles myself.
7:30 pm - putting Miss Peanut to bed, explaining about Bull Sharks. So, yeah, sharks are a particular phobia of mine. I watch Shark Week, read all kinds of books about sharks, and check out National Geographic whenever they've got a good article on sharks. Miss Peanut is either going to be as phobic as me when it comes to the ocean's largest predators, or she's going to be a marine biologist and scare me right into religion.
9:00 pm - watching Star Trek shows on tv. There's one about Star Trek memorabilia, hosted by
Mr. Spock Leonard Nimoy that's really good. I've got a cup of tea, Earl Gray, hot, steaming on the table at my side. I'm also dreaming of chocolate, a la Deanna Troi, but there's none to be had in my house. Bummer.
11:00 pm - Bedtime. Goodnight, all.
