A Day in the Life Turns Into a Toilet Paper Rant

I figured it was time to walk everyone through a typical day in the life of a neurotic stay-at-home writer.

8:48 a.m. -- My alarm goes off.  I only set my alarm in multiples of 2, but never with a time ending in 0.  8:48 is ideal because I love the number 8, and 8 is divisible by 4.  At this point I hit snooze at least once, but usually twice.

9:08 a.m. -- I actually get up.  Whether or not I shower at this point depends on whether I plan on doing yard work or house work after I write.  I let the dog outside, fill up her food and water bowls, and tell her how beautiful she is and how much she is loved.

9:28 a.m. -- By this point I have usually thrown on some clothes and brushed my teeth.  I take my Flintstones Gummy Vitamins, pack up my computer and writing books, and head out the door (I get distracted if I try to write at home, so I generally head to a bookstore, restaurant, or coffee shop to work).

Around 10:00 a.m. -- I arrive at my writing location.  My favorite spot is Panera Bread.  I am obsessed with their Hazelnut coffee and cheese danishes.  (I've had an affinity for cheese danishes ever since I was little and saw Frank Sinatra talk about them in the movie Guys and Dolls).

Cheese danish + coffee = writing fuel.

9:50 a.m. - 1:00 p.m. or so -- This is generally when I get most of my work done.  I write, I blog, I edit my book.  This past week I have also sent several pieces into magazines or journals.  Patience is a virtue when it comes to magazine submissions.  Most of their guidelines say they will respond in around 6 months, if at all.  I also entered several poems and short stories in the West Virginia Writer's Conference Contest.  The winners for the contest will be announced at the Conference in June.  Finally, I've applied to several short-term writing programs that are set for late summer.  I won't hear if I've been accepted for at least a month.

1:00 p.m. - dinnertime -- I clean and do laundry, do yard work, visit my niece, walk the dog, run errands, etc.  Yesterday I stopped by Kroger to buy a giant package of toilet paper.  I've weighed the options in my head.  You can buy smaller packages of toilet paper and be less conspicuous, but that means you have to buy it more often.  The large packages last longer, but they are enormous and awkward to carry out to the car.  I opt for the giant package and just hope that I don't run into too many people I know.

Sometimes I even wonder if people will judge me based on my toilet paper selection.  If I buy the cheap, rough kind, someone might assume I am a Sadomasochist.  Picture source

If I buy Charmin Ultra-Soft, people might label me a snob (is buying 3ply toilet paper the equivalent of only sleeping on 600 thread count Egyptian Cotton sheets?). Picture source

I don't know why buying toilet paper is so embarrassing to me.  Everyone uses it; it would look weird to pretend you don't.  (This was demonstrated recently on the show New Girl:  New Girl toilet paper clip).  There are a million things that are more embarrassing to buy.  And I've bought them.

For my friend Krystal’s 21st birthday, I wrote the following message in her birthday card:  "To prove how much you mean to me, I bought you the things you may need one day but would be too embarrassed to buy."  I filled a birthday bag with tampons, pads, adult diapers, condoms, douche kits, enema bags, and an economy-size tube of hemorrhoid cream.   And I did not self-check out.  I picked the youngest and most attractive male cashier in the store to check me out.  That is the only way to make it a legitimate and touching gift.  The best part was watching Krystal open her presents in front of everyone.  “Oh, hold it up so everyone can see,” I exclaimed from the back of the party.
        
Wait, what was this blog post about again?