4:45 – wake to the dulcet tones of a garage door opening and closing. (I love my house and my favorite space is my bedroom and bathroom, but I could live without it being over the garage.)
5:30 – realize you could get out of bed and get a jumpstart on the day. Decide to do so.
5:31 – remember the coffee maker is set to turn on at 6:15. No point in getting out of bed, really. Never mind that you can always, you know, turn it on yourself. Lazy whore.
5:32 – Mentally rewrite the passage you typed last night. Solve pressing issue with plot movement. Brainstorm penis euphemisms.
5:34 – doze.
6:45 – wake to the sounds of bickering children and a kitchen being slowly buried under an avalanche of discarded breakfast offerings.
6:50 – grudgingly leave bed to mediate the morning warfare.
6:51 – push button on coffee maker, enjoy the silence your bed head engenders in your children. Little known fact : cowlicks conquer sibling rivalry. They will unite to laugh at your crazy hair. Enjoy the fact that they both inherited it from you. Indulge in a silent, but evil laugh.
7:00 – announce the end of breakfast. Begin an endless litany of “brush your teeth. That doesn’t match, find a green shirt. I don’t know where your backpack is, I hardly ever use it.” Mentally thank your mother for your parenting vocabulary. It’s way more fun on the other end of it. Not.
7:45 – Stare longingly at your child’s ADHD medication. Leave before you can succumb to temptation.
8:15 – return home to a silent house. Open Word. DO NOT OPEN SAFARI. Try to remember the brilliant revision you came up with at dawn.
8:19 – Open Safari, just to fact check.
8:20 – 1:30 – Get lost in the Internet.
1:31 – look at the time and curse fluently. Leave to pick up your children from school.