A Blog by Gail Cushman
My days are fusing, you know, running together, making it difficult to determine one from another, and this week the ruts have run deep and wide, and I’m looking for something to derutify me. If de-rut-ify isn’t a word, it should be, especially for us wrinkly bits.
I get up, get dressed, get my caffeine fix, and go outside to grab the paper and determine if it the air is fit to breathe, which it isn’t right now, so back into the house I go. I turn on the news and hear almost the same thing I heard yesterday, mostly bad stuff, so I turn it off and sit down to check my various social media accounts and read my email, mostly suggestions about how to get larger, harder happiness, which I delete. It hardly seems relevant at this point in my life.
I eat a lot of eggs, no carbs, low calorie, and they are cheap, and I have a handy supply. I nuke a couple of slices of bacon because I love bacon, no carbs, low calorie, but high fat. It’s a guilty pleasure, and I prefer it over larger, harder happiness, referenced in my daily emails.
I dig out a couple diet books and browse through them, searching for a magic potion that will keep me on the straight and narrow diet-road for the rest of the week, and finding none, I drink another cup of java and check out, but don’t touch the loaf of bread sitting in my cupboard. High carbs, low calorie, and eating a slice would make me cranky with myself, because it would lead to marmalade, and that’s a real guilty pleasure.
By then, my make-believe characters are screaming in my ear, “It’s time to come out and play, Gail, what are we doing today?” I don’t know why they ask me because they pretty much do what they darn well please, pouring words out my fingers onto the page. That’s the truth, because sometimes I have to read what I wrote the next day to find out what they did the day before, hoping they hadn’t acted on the longer, harder email, and make me blush.
So, there you have it, my day in a nutshell. I need to de-rut-ify my mundane life and I’m sure I can find happiness if I really concentrate. Will it be longer and harder, or will I give in to marmalade?
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