The older I get, the grumpier I get…
A morning routine is something the entire population of the world has in common. Mine consists of the following, apart from walking into a half open door in the dark on occasion, otherwise it wouldn’t be a routine would it! Why in the dark? Because at the ungodly hour I wake every morning, my eyes cannot stand strong light, especially overly bright light bulbs!
I slowly emerge from the land of nod as the realisation that morning is assaulting my still closed eyes. No matter which way I turn in bed; no matter how hard I try to pull the duvet over my head, morning wins, no matter whether its still dark or not…
My feet act on their own, swinging out of bed closely followed by my body. My brain however is still snuggled down in the warmth of the bed. Now in my divided state, I’m instantly grumpy as my body walks to the bathroom bleary eyed.
Next comes further walking, this time to the kitchen via the hallway. My whole body goes into auto-pilot mode. Get kettle, take same to sink. Remove lid, place under tap; turn on tap, fill kettle, replace lid then plug in. With eyes that still refuse to open properly find coffee jar, open, feel around for measuring scoop, place scoopful of coffee into coffee plunger.
Go to living room, open curtains. Curse as my body reacts to toe stubbed on table leg – my brain sniggers to itself, still thinking its in bed. It didn’t feel a thing. Turn on television for breakfast news. My body sits in favourite chair; my brain shows no sign of joining my body as yet.
Instead it yells to my body, “Turn the damned kettle on you plonker!” My body stumbles through door to the kitchen stubbing more toes on the half open door. My brain chuckles to itself. My body now positively hates my brain.
Kettle boils. My body slowly reacts still on auto-pilot. The coffee plunger is filled, my body takes it into the living room and places same beside my favourite chair on small table. My left hand operates on its own as it pushes plunger down. The same hand picks up coffee plunger, pours coffee into mug.
Both of my hands now search for tobacco and cigarette papers on the table beside my chair. Between them they roll first fag of the day, then stick same in my body’s mouth. Left hand picks up lighter, lights fag. My body takes first deep drag on fag. My left hand then picks up coffee mug. My right hand holds fag while my left lifts mug to my mouth. At a given signal by my nose my mouth opens to receive coffee. First mouthful swallowed, my right hand replaces fag in my mouth.
Then, as if by magic an instant transformation follows as my brain rejoins my body assisted by caffeine and nicotine. Now my day can begin at last.
PS – until all of this occurs in exactly the order I have just stated, I’m like a bear with a sore head!
PPS – one other thing I forgot to mention. Well two in fact. Daily I have to check my many skin cancers, especially the 2″ x 3″ monster on my lower right back. On the positive side, since I retired seven years ago, my midriff has shrunk. I now have a thirty inch waist once more thanks to my skimpy eating habits – one meal a day…