I realized today that I had a column due … a week ago. So I whipped something up and sent it out, and realized that it might be something my blog readers would enjoy. This is a little longer than the magazine column, because I have a shorter word count for print. But honest, this is a snapshot of a day in my life.
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A Day In The Life
by Joanne Brokaw
Wake up at 6:30 a.m. to the sound of neighborhood dogs barking. Wait till it’s quiet and get up to let my dogs out. While dogs potty, let the hens out of the coop. Dogs and I go back to bed until 8:00. Or 8:30. Or 9:00.
Get up. Feed the dogs and cat, make tea, check email, take a shower. Realize I am out of clean clothes. Pile up dirty laundry. Chase Bandit, who has stolen dirty socks. Leave pile of laundry for later.
Take the dogs for a walk. Check the henhouse. Ta da! An egg! Do the egg dance, praise the hens. Let the dogs in. Make tea.
Give the dogs a biscuit. Check email again.
Pick up CDs and press kits Bandit has strewn across the living room. Wipe up tea Bandit has spilled while I was picking up CDs and press kits.
Let the dogs out. Check the henhouse. Yay! Another egg! Let the dogs in.
Check Facebook. Take a call from Cassie, who wants to know how much money is in her account. Look it up online and tell her. Break up a fight between the dogs and the cat.
Let the dogs out. Back to work. Check Twitter. Hear the dogs having a bark fest with the neighbor’s dogs. Let the dogs in.
Make tea. Pick up all of the plastic containers and lids that Bandit has taken out of the cupboard while I was making tea, and put them back into the cupboard. Hope no one notices they’re covered in dog spit. Reach for tea and find Bandit drank it.
Let the dogs out. Make more tea. Sit down to write. Hear the dogs barking incessantly at the neighbor mowing his lawn. Let the dogs in.
Start writing column while trying to keep Murphy the cat from rolling around on the computer keyboard and Scout from repeatedly nudging my arm to play catch. Realize Bandit is missing. Find him in the kitchen licking the breakfast dishes in the sink.
Let the dogs out. Play catch. Let the dogs in. Make more tea.
Get engrossed writing column and then realize that the house is extremely quiet. Get up to see where everyone is. Find Scout asleep, Murphy asleep, Bandit’s head in the cat food tin, helping himself to a snack.
Make lunch. Watch something on Netflix while I eat. Let the dogs out. Play catch.
Go inside to work. Hear the dogs outside, barking like maniacs. Go out, greet the mailman and spend 10 minutes catching up on the latest news in town. Let the dogs in.
Give the dogs another biscuit and beg them for 5 minutes peace. Stare at computer screen and think about writing. Notice the cat has tipped over the dog water bowl. Get up to clean water spreading across the floor.
Realize I now have one semi-clean spot on the kitchen floor. Use some paper towels to wipe up the major dirt and toss some throw rugs over the rest of the floor. Hope no one comes to visit.
Let the dogs out. Check the hens. Another egg. Whoopee. Let the dogs in. Chase Bandit, who is dragging a throw rug around the house.
Put egg in the fridge and realize I have nothing for dinner. Spend 20 minutes thinking about what I want to make for dinner. Make a list of what I need. Go to the grocery store. Run into my neighbor, and spend 15 minutes talking about what we’re making for dinner.
Go home. Let the dogs out. Put groceries away. Realize I forgot to get what I went to the store to buy. Decide we’ll have eggs for dinner. Check the henhouse and thank Mrs. Wiggins for laying like clockwork. Let the dogs in.
Remember that husband is working late and I don’t need to make dinner.
Realize it’s almost 3:00 p.m. and I have a headache.
Take a nap with Scout in recliner and me on the couch, Bandit curled up on my feet and Murphy on my head.
Sleep until I hear David coming at 5:00. He didn’t have to work late after all.
Feed the dogs and cat. Make French toast for dinner. Let dogs lick dinner dishes. Wash dishes. Watch TV.
Let Bandit out. Try to coax Scout out in the dark with no success. Lock the hens in the coop. Let Bandit in.
Get ready for bed. Shove pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Brush dirt and dog hair off sheets. Give dogs nite nite biscuits and wedge myself into bed around them. Write in journal, read Bible, read several chapters in mystery novel. Finally go to sleep with Bandit stretched out across my legs like a cement block.
And thus ends another very busy (but surprisingly unproductive) day in the life of a columnist. Well, this columnist, anyway.