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A day in the life
Not so many days ago a sweet little lady ran over me with her shopping cart while I was maneuvering through a local grocery store. She was so nice it was just impossible to get mad at her, especially since she was nice enough to wet a paper towel so I could clean the blood off my slacks. The whole ordeal wasn't really her fault since most shopping buggies tend to have minds of their own. As we were chatting, it dawned on her that I was, as she phrased it, “that man in the newspaper.” Since that description could easily apply to any of those unfortunates whose pictures appear on the “most wanted” section of the paper each week, I quickly clarified my identity for her. After making sure I wasn't on the run because of some malfeasance, she introduced herself and asked me a question. “What do you do, say, on your average day?” I told her I really wasn't sure since each day is a little different, but I would keep a diary of sorts one day and would run it as a column soon. I did just that and here it is. 6 a.m.: Wife wakes me by hitting light switch. Enough illumination blasts into the bedroom to guide a Boeing 737 onto a landing strip through a heavy fog during a thunderstorm. My head aches. 6:10 a.m.: Wife apologizes for the light show then threatens to land a Boeing 737 in the bedroom if I don't get up and tend to the dog. 6:15 a.m.: First cup of coffee is poured. Dog is up and sitting on my lap. Turn on TV to see it is supposed to rain all day. Hillary doesn't like Obama. Obama doesn't like Hillary. Nobody likes McCain. Braves lose. News report seems to be a re-run. 6:20 a.m.: Step outside for some fresh air. Weather people have it correct; it is raining. 6:40 a.m.: Jump into shower. Get hung up in clothes stringing from shower rod. Stand on clothes hamper to prevent death by hanging. 6:50 a.m.: Daughter comes out of her bathroom, which she has occupied since 5:45 a.m.. Why does it take such a beautiful girl over an hour to get pretty? 7 a.m.: Breakfast. Biscuits. Sausage. Eggs. Gravy. I use margarine on bread to hold down my cholesterol intake. 7:15 a.m.: Drink second cup of coffee. Or is this my third? Too early for math. 7:30 a.m.: Wife leaves for work. Daughter goes with her. Dog wants to go, but can't drive. The morning goes as well as a rainy Monday could go. On the way to town I hear a cell phone ringing - an odd occurrence since I don't own a cell phone. After listening more closely I realize the ringing isn't a phone, but instead it's one of my front wheel bearings going south. Lunch time arrives, and I go home and take the dog for a walk. I'm pretty much shot so I pile up on the sofa for a nap. So far, so good. 1:10 p.m.: The phone rings. I told the computer on the other end that I had just bought vinyl siding and couldn't use anymore at this time. Thanked computer for calling. 2 p.m.: Couldn't get back to sleep. Decided to watch some TV. Found Jerry Springer. Dozed back off after throwing up. 5 p.m.: Switched on the news. Saw a tape of the Rev. Wright for the 300th time. What is it he's running for, anyway? Dog barks at him. 5:30 p.m.: Realize it's my turn to prepare dinner. I bow my head and thank God for microwavable food. 6 p.m.: Supper is ready. Didn't know there was so much work in microwaving macaroni and cheese. 7 p.m.: Everyone is home and full of mac n' cheese. I settle in with a pack of Rolaids to watch John Hagee. 9 p.m.: What am I still doing up? Patted the wife and daughter on their heads, kissed the dog and went to bed. And that, my dear lady, is a day in the life of me. The hours are grueling, the pressure almost unbearable, but I'm hanging in there. By the way, ma'am, the leg is healing up quite nicely. Thank you. Benjie Watts of Gamewell is a columnist for the News-Topic. If you want to leave a message for him him call the TopicLine, 757-4300, category number 4335.
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