I often wake up at four or five in the morning and peel myself out of bed on the pretense of having lots to do, but really, it’s because I went to bed earlier than most people do and am anxious for the smell of coffee. But this morning, I woke up at seven-thirty, I’m unsure why, but it was nice have a couple hours extra in the sack. I lay there for a minute deciding if I was going jump out, crawl out, or fall out. It varies from day to day, depending on which body part is complaining. I tested my knee, and found it agreeable to standing up, so I rose and went through my morning routine. Everything worked, except my scale which must be broken because it reads several pounds over what I feel positive that my actual weight is. It must have broken about the same time Covid hit. My heart is pumping fine as far as I know, and no other part of my body is screaming about getting on with today’s adventures.
I plugged in the coffee pot and downed a big glass of water because one of my recent diet plans said I should, and it makes me feel good. I retrieved the newspaper and read the headlines before tackling the various puzzles, which took about an hour, the same amount of time as it takes to down two cups of coffee, then I picked up my cell phone to see if anyone phoned, texted, emailed me while I was asleep.
What a surprise because this morning I had five messages, and no spam or warnings about social security police or car warranties or my house being invaded by Martians. Woo-hoo. Two messages were ads, and three from people I have chatted with before. I’m on Facebook a lot and I meet a lot of people, though I seldom engage in extended conversations with people I don’t know because it can be risky. Two (these would be advertisements, wanted to improve my presence on Facebook, helping me with Wrinkly Bits…I don’t think so. One of them spelled the word “assist” “a-s-c-i-s-c-t.” Even my worst spelling student knew better than that. Delete. One addressed me as Mr. Gail, another delete. The legitimate texts were better. One was from Maine, a writer, asking me a legitimate question and I’ve talked with her before. Another, also from Maine, but not the same town, is also a writer with some disabilities. We have talked before, and he shows up on my email every now and then. I’ll email both of them later. And the fifth was from a nice lady author in Alberta, Canada, who writes western romances. Elizabeth Clements. I haven’t read her books, but I checked them out on Amazon, and they look like something I could dig into. The promo says: “What’s hotter than a two-dollar pistol and 4th of July fireworks?” Now that got my attention and the photo looked like a cross between Tom Selleck and Sam Elliot. Ooh la la. She and I are of similar age, I am older than dirt, she is younger than dirt, but we have things in common. She’s a woman I’d like to meet up for coffee and conversation.
It is almost nine o’clock, where had the time gone? I still have to get dressed, figure out breakfast, and eat. By my usual Up & At ’em schedule, the day is nearly shot to hell.
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