Mornings at the Bodhi-Bakody-Abodie

Sometimes people do things that I REALLY don’t understand. I mean, just completely bizarre crap. For example, this morning I saw that my friend put up a menu for a veggie dim sum place on our refrigerator. The only reason I noticed was because I needed the magnet to put up a picture of a mermaid throwing up seashells. (I love that freaking picture!) When I asked her why she insisted on putting up the menu, she said it was because if we ever need dim sum, she was going to need the address and menu and number. Okay, fair enough. Until I saw that the menu was from a place in New York. We don’t live in New York. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to New York any time in the near future. And I’m fairly certain she is not going anytime soon either. I am also fairly certain this was not a joke. I ended up walking out of the kitchen, looking at her, opened my mouth to say something but thought better of it, walked back into the kitchen and poured myself another cup of coffee. Side note, this is my new favorite commercial. My roommate said it seems like something I would make. He’s also getting me an Alumni Cal Tech license plate holder because I think it would be funny considering my complete lack of math skills. At least he’s starting to get me.

The first part of waking up

I don’t think I have woken up in the past two months without muttering the phrase, “I don’t want to go to work today.” I like work. But it seems as though I really need to get into a catch phrase. When I was in high school, every single day I would somehow try to convince my mom to turn around and go somewhere else. This lasted until the last day of school, senior year. When my mom finally said yes, I looked at her and said, “Wow, talk about Pavlov’s dogs! I don’t even realize I say it anymore. It’s like I see the gate and it’s a knee jerk reaction.” I’m fairly certain that my not wanting to go to work thing is the same.
I sleep with three pillows. Two are fluffy and you can actually sink into them. One is firmer and would probably be great to smother someone in their sleep…if that’s the kinda thing you’re into. Which I most certainly am not. Moving on. The two fluffy ones are always in the same color pillowcase and I place them side-by-side. The firm pillow is usually in a childhood pillowcase. Right now Mr. Firm pillow is in a super old Disney pillowcase that has Daisy making the bed of one of those Huey, Dewey or Louie characters. Not Louie, Louie is green. This guy is red. And on the flip side, Donald and Minnie are cleaning up some room. When I sleep, I sleep on my stomach with my head on the fluffies and my arm holding on to the firmie. Every single morning I wake up, and before I can mutter that I don’t want to go to work, I realize that I have removed the pillowcase cover of the firm one that I have been clutching to the entire night. I have done this since I was a baby, apparently. My mom says my dad does the same thing. My mom is baffled by it still. She sleeps in one place. I’m a mover and a shaker, and rumor has it, a giggler.
When I finally get up, I go to my computer, tippityy type out stories, or dreams or whatever feels the need to be saved on my hard-drive. I drink my coffee (3 sugars, no milk) and start texting people. I usually update my Facebook status. Somewhere in there a shower and dressing usually occur. By the time I actually need to leave the house, I have already had 3 cups of coffee and a substantial conversation. (Mind you, last night my substantial conversation was singing the Oscar Mayer song in a low baritone to my friend who was then trying to harmonize with me. Birds of a feather, I guess)
I am writing all this because this is what I am used to. This is my daily ritual. This is my “Get the day started” routine. I am used to this. But as of next week, someone new is going to be privy to this. I guess this just seemed easier than writing out a list of quirks to watch out for. And I am sure there will be a list of quirks that get written. But as far as next week, Bodhi, please take note of how I like my coffee.