A Day in the Life
The alarm goes off at eight. I’m not sure why since we never get out of bed until nine. I’m just a man so I don’t wonder, ask or complain. One of the many things I learned in my twelve year marriage. Wendy gets out of bed at nine after nine. She heads to the kitchen to get her morning caffeine, the first of many Diet Cokes. I slumber in bed until the door to the shower shuts. I roll out of bed, put on sweat pants, a Superman T-shirt and some slipper moccasins I bought for six Euros. I amble down the hall to Wendy’s computer and turn it on, then turn on the intern’s computer. I amble back up the hall and strip the pillows off the bed, then make it. I am the bed fairy. The stealth bed maker. The walrus. Coo coo ca choo. Wendy always thinks I’m going to sleep in and then she gets out of the shower and the bed is made and I’m sitting at my desk. I pour about three ounces of coffee into a cup and drink it cold. As always, I longingly think back to the time when I used to drink fifty ounces ...