A Day in the Lifestyle - 8/10/17

The plan, as discussed last night with Deborah, was to get up and go to the gym before noon. At ten past noon, Deborah was still sound asleep in bed. I'd gotten up about 10 AM, unable to handle anymore unbridled unconsciousness, and did some reading and admin work for school while the house was quiet. Even the dogs, Maddie and Foster, were out cold for most of the morning.

I don't recall precisely when I fell asleep last night, but I am pretty sure it was not much after midnight for two reasons. First, I had taken two Benadryl tablets when I got home last night about 11 PM from a social gathering with some members of my graduate school cohort, during which I'd also had two beers (hops, the flavoring agent in beer, is a "soporific," a fancy word for something that induces drowsiness or sleep). Second, when I got into bed, I picked up and started reading some of the Introduction section to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders (5th Edition), which contains some of the most coma-inducing text ever published in the history of Psychology.

In any case, I was pretty well rested when I got up. I do my best work in the morning when my mind is relatively calm and uncluttered. About 12:30 PM, with no positive indication that Deborah had any inclinations toward getting up, I ate a late, light breakfast of Cheerios with almond milk and fruit (half a banana and some grapes cut up into the cereal). After eating, I grabbed the small bottle of dorzolamide eyedrops from the kitchen counter and went upstairs to administer a drop to my dog Foster's one remaining eye. The drops treat glaucoma, a disease my Boston terrier has a genetic predisposition for and which took Foster's other eye a couple years ago. Foster has gotten used to the drops and took the ritual with a grain of learned hopelessness before falling back to sleep.

"Is anyone getting up today?" I wondered aloud in the general direction of Deborah's inert form under the covers.

"Mmmmmrrrrmmmm," was her subdued reply.

"Alright," I said and went into my study to meditate for 30 minutes or so. It wasn't a proper meditation, because I listened to a podcast during it, but I was still very present, the general goal of meditation, focusing on the podcast content, my breathing, and being in the moment.

I must have farted around online for a while, because all of a sudden it was 2:40 PM.

Deborah was awake but still in bed, watching TV. It was her day off and she was indulging every slothful moment of it.

"I might bike to the store and get some ingredients for pesto," I said. I had noticed during breakfast that the potted basil plant on our back porch was proliferating nicely and was due for a trim. "Also I need to stop by the library to pick up a book. Is the Wunderlist up to date?" Wunderlist is the list-making app we use for our grocery list.

"Should be," Deborah said, grabbing her phone to open the app. "Yup, looks like it."

"How does the weather look?" I asked, while she still had her phone in hand. She pulled up a weather map on the Weatherbug app and showed it to me. The amorphous blobs of color on the map indicating precipitation were off to the west of our location. "I can probably beat that home," I said.

I donned my backpack and scored my bike saddlebags from the mudroom closet. After attaching the saddlebags to my bike rack, I headed for the library to pick up a book I had ordered for one of my forthcoming grad school classes. When I emerged from the library, a darkish rain cloud was hovering ominously nearby in the western sky. I made the wise decision to postpone my grocery store inclinations and high-tailed it home just in time to evade some torrential rains that moved through.

I never made it to the store for pesto fixings, but I made a simple dish of whole wheat pasta drizzled in olive oil for Deborah and me for dinner, . We watched an episode of Homeland on TV while we ate, after which I spent about an hour practicing songs on guitar for the rock show I was slated to perform with YOUR MOM* on Friday night at the Anchor Inn in Edgerton WI.

About 7:30 PM, I drove over to my friend Wendy's condo for a Mastermind accountability group meeting with her and her boyfriend Scott. We watched a webinar about eBook writing and publishing that was quasi-informative, though largely common sense stuff, and spent another hour after that discussing the webinar and progress/hurdles on our respective Mastermind goals.

After returning home, Deborah and I chatted a bit and after she went to sleep, I read some more of the weighty DSM-5 tome to induce torpor. It worked and I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of ICD-9 diagnostic codes for mental illness.

An average and generally fulfilling day.

*Note: Not your actual Mom. YOUR MOM is a popular cover band from Madison WI that I sometimes proffer my rock mercenary talents to.

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