Another Morning

My days all generally begin the same way.

I get up at 6 a.m., give or take 15 minutes, almost every morning, even on weekends.

I put on my robe and trundle into the kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea, and while the water boils in the microwave I do stretches for my plantar fasciitis.

My husband, who rises at 5 a.m. regardless of day, has already fixed his own breakfast and brought up the newspaper. He'll kiss me and be gone long before I am fully awake.(I tried the good wife thing when we first married but I broke so many dozens of eggs that he told me to just stay in bed.)

Tea in hand, I come into my office where I check my email, read a few news articles, answer a couple of friends who have written overnight. Sometimes I write a blog entry if I've something on my mind or I'm not too busy.

At 7 a.m. I try to exercise. I was doing very well at this but it has waned over the summer. This is mostly because of the problems with my left foot and the heel spur, which makes walking on the treadmill practically unbearable. I've been trying to lift weights and ride a recumbent bike instead but I am not as good about that as I was walking.

So some mornings I spend longer at the computer. By 8 a.m. I am in the shower. Then I fix my breakfast (some morning eggs, some morning rice cereal, occasionally a gluten free waffle) and read the newspaper. I can't start my day without reading the comics and seeing if there are stories that happened overnight that I might need to follow up on myself.

After I eat, I quickly empty the dishwasher and load my husband's dishes as well as my own. Then I toss a load of clothes in the washer.

Then back to the computer. I check my tasks and then it's off to write. Mostly I write articles for the paper these days; I am quite busy.

At some point I take a break to put the clothes in the dryer or hang them on the clothes rack to dry.

I try to work until at least noon. That's three hours of writing every day.

And that's pretty much how it is in my life until lunch time.