I felt spacey and out-of-sorts Friday. But I was as good a girl can be and metroed downtown per my schedule, then returned home where I promptly changed into my pajamas and crawled between the sheets. It was 4:00 pm. (Yes, I do things like that. Not even a twinge of guilt. Don't hate me. I've done my time.)
There I lay, nursing my undefined misery with a dose of an illicit pleasure: watching one of those People's Court-type shows. Eh. I am inexplicably drawn to programs of that ilk. Today it was Judge Mathis. Stupid fucking people with stupid fucking problems. Maybe I watch because it makes me feel evolved.
As I nestled into bed I was reminded of how the day had begun.
Note to self: When your thoughtful girlfriend brings your morning cup of coffee to you in bed, do NOT drowse off while holding the full, steamy mug in your hand.
Mmmmm. Coffee scented linens. Nope. I didn't change the sheets after my rude re-awakening that morning. I half-heartedly sopped the mess with a towel that was now crumbled in a heap on the floor next to our bed. Eh. Did I mention I was spacey and out-of-sorts?
30 minutes passed with me in my zombie state, remote control loosely grasped in my right hand, a coffee-stained pillow bunched up under my head and a dog snuggled on either side.
The phone rang.
Caller ID identified my mother.
I let it go to voicemail.
Would call her later.
Haven't given myself that leeway since December.
Guilt twinge.
20 minutes passed.
The phone rang.
Caller ID identified Wendy's cell.
I answered.
Traffic not heavy, looking good, see you soonest my love!
Ten minutes passed.
The phone rang.
Caller ID identified my mother.
Again so soon?
I answered.
Because who am I kidding? I may have done my time, but now I'm doing time of a different nature. And I'll keep on doing it until it's time to do something else.
Because that's what I do.
Don't you?
.
There I lay, nursing my undefined misery with a dose of an illicit pleasure: watching one of those People's Court-type shows. Eh. I am inexplicably drawn to programs of that ilk. Today it was Judge Mathis. Stupid fucking people with stupid fucking problems. Maybe I watch because it makes me feel evolved.
As I nestled into bed I was reminded of how the day had begun.
Note to self: When your thoughtful girlfriend brings your morning cup of coffee to you in bed, do NOT drowse off while holding the full, steamy mug in your hand.
Mmmmm. Coffee scented linens. Nope. I didn't change the sheets after my rude re-awakening that morning. I half-heartedly sopped the mess with a towel that was now crumbled in a heap on the floor next to our bed. Eh. Did I mention I was spacey and out-of-sorts?
30 minutes passed with me in my zombie state, remote control loosely grasped in my right hand, a coffee-stained pillow bunched up under my head and a dog snuggled on either side.
The phone rang.
Caller ID identified my mother.
I let it go to voicemail.
Would call her later.
Haven't given myself that leeway since December.
Guilt twinge.
20 minutes passed.
The phone rang.
Caller ID identified Wendy's cell.
I answered.
Traffic not heavy, looking good, see you soonest my love!
Ten minutes passed.
The phone rang.
Caller ID identified my mother.
Again so soon?
I answered.
Because who am I kidding? I may have done my time, but now I'm doing time of a different nature. And I'll keep on doing it until it's time to do something else.
Because that's what I do.
Don't you?
.
9 comments:
Hmm, your day sounds like my last week. Hope the weekend brings you some relief.
I can't remember life before caller ID, which is sad.
Why am I slave to my phone? Even though I have caller ID, I always answer.
Hope you have a great weekend.
to quote eb, "Just because it rings, you don't have to answer it."
I always answer when it's mom, otherwise I get this message:
"(((heavy sigh))) Where A R E you? This is your Mother, Call Me."
When I call back? "Well, where were you?"
Taking refuge in bed with a "dumb people go to court show" sounds pretty inocuous to me. I prefer the new woman on People's Court, she's more sarcastic than the rest... one way or the other I too watch that stuff to feel evolved, just like I watch Dr. Phil to feel not-so-screwed up.
I just clean something. And no, not coffee stained sheets. Unless of course I happened to have something like that. Which I wouldn't. I don't drink coffee. Don't have caller ID. Anyone calls, it's usually Kathy's sisters. Maybe someone from church. No one scary. Both our moms are gone now. Oh--SBC. They like to call from time to time.
I got a phone that verbally announces who is calling after the 1st ring. I dont even have to reach for the phone to read the caller ID. It is great, I NEVER answer unless I really care.
Hey, I had Marilyn Millian (people's court judge) onboard from MIA to EWR! She is GORGEOUS! and very nice.
Yes. I do.
Every. Single. Day.
Like it's my job.
Which, I guess, it sort of is.
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