Tag Archives: daily routine

I need to get back to reality… now!

Greetings, readers. For a very long time now I have found myself caught in a half-world of virtual reality. I don’t know whether it’s my depression or whether I just love being a big kid, but my favorite thing to do is to play video games … and eat ice cream. I know I’ve talked about self-improvement before, but I’m going to take steps starting today to make those improvements happen. I saw on an episode of One Day at a Time last evening where the main character was told by her therapist to use her cell phone and describe all that was going on in her day and then play it back. When she did, she heard just how bad she sounded and that she needed to go back on her antidepressants.

Now, I’m not off my antidepressants, but I’m going to use the same tactic of recording and listening to hear just how my typical day transpires. I can already tell you it’s not going to be pretty. I am dictating this blog entry with my voice recognition program which has a feature to play back what I have dictated in my own voice. Yes, dear readers, I am going to play it back and listen to it. Ready? Here we go.

My typical work day is as follows: my alarm will go off at 3:45 AM. First thing I will do is stride slowly to the kitchen and make coffee. I am nothing before my morning coffee. Once my morning beverage is next to me at my desk, I’ll turn on the computer and get ready to play the morning baseball video game. My fictitious Winnipeg Bluebirds are in second place but fading fast. For those two hours, I am so engrossed in that game, and if I’m not careful I could find myself late for work. Out of the Park Baseball ‘18 has everything; it is by far the best baseball simulation out there. That brings us to approximately 6 AM.

Next, I will close down my computer and take my medication. Lord help me if I forget that. Between 6:15 and 7:45, I will enjoy my second cup of coffee and either listen to music or play Fishing Planet, a remarkably lifelike fishing simulator. You start at level 1 with only one rod, one reel and light tackle and bait. I’m up to level 5 now. I’ve watched YouTube videos of people in the higher levels angling for big bass. This is another game that I can lose track of time playing and I must be cautious. Can’t be late for real life, you know.

At 9:38, I catch the morning bus to my fast food job. Between the hours of 10 and 3 PM, I feel like a normal person. I’m out in the world, interacting with others, making coffee, telling jokes to my coworkers and having a great time. What do you know? I’m a normal person … but just until 3 o’clock.

When I get home at 4 PM, I figuratively crash. I will plop myself down on my recliner chair, watch TV, and most times, fall asleep. Oh, I feel so old. When I come to, an hour or so later, I won’t notice the emptiness of the apartment without Keekee and need to go grab some ice cream. Yes, even with a therapist and antidepressants I still need my comfort food. It makes me feel better and it makes my dentist rich. If I have to go to my fast food job the next morning I will turn in for the night no later than 9 PM. Years ago, the evening was only just getting going at 9 PM. I set my alarm for 3:45 AM, and do it all again the next day.
I’m going to take a break now and make this contraption read back to me what I just typed, then in the final paragraph I shall summarize. Be right back.

After listening to the 667 words I just dictated, it is painfully obvious to me that except for a five hour span during a few afternoons a week, I am completely not in reality. I am in virtual reality. It is comfortable there, but I must leave soon. If I don’t, I feel I will be completely devoured and unable to get back to what I would consider a ‘normal life’. I will keep you all up to date on my progress.

Next week, I will blog on Wednesday about the Canadian football league. Until then, have a great weekend, to take care and as always, happy reading.

Life without my KeeKee

Greetings, readers. I’ve been struggling very much to cope with the loss of my cat, Keekee. This Friday, it will be only two weeks since she’s been gone. It feels like much longer though. There are many tough times, but I think the toughest is when I come home from work or from doing errands. I open the apartment door and expect to see Keekee run to greet me. That will never happen again.

It’s funny how in 12 years there are so many habits that a pet owner and their pets can form. My cat and I had what I called our breakfast routine, our time for dinner and our time to “go sleepies.” Every night when it’s time to turn out the lights I’ve caught myself a couple of times wanting to begin the evening routine, but stopped myself, thinking just how crazy it is for me to talk to myself. Yes, it is very difficult for me.

You always think you have tons of time with your pet, but you never know. I found that out the hard way. What I thought was a tooth problem turned out to be cancer of the tongue. She had no chance to win that battle. She was born on approximately January 25, 2006 and she passed over the rainbow bridge on January 19, 2018.

This blog entry is not going to be that much longer, dear readers. It is still very painful for me to talk about her. I’m sure that every day will get better and better and I do plan on adopting another support animal in April or May. My biggest concern is that I will use the same phrases that became such a part of Keekee and my daily routine. It took Keekers just two days to learn the phrase,’ dinner’. Cats are extremely smart and I don’t think it will take my next furry buddy long to learn all those fun phrases and routines I come up with.
I am looking for a cat which has already been litter trained, approximately one-year-old or less and short-haired or hypoallergenic. That would be my best fit. I’ve already looked on Paws.com, and found a couple of cute choices. But it’s too early. I have starred the website so that I can easily find it again when the time is right.

I used my voice recognition program to write this blog entry today, then edited it with Rebecca when she got to work. A funny thing came up because of that. I spell KeeKee with a capital K in the middle. Rebecca has not been doing that for entire history of this blog; she has spelled it Keekee, and I let it go. Today, I spelled it with two capital Ks, and that is how it is spelled in the title. We changed the spelling to Rebecca’s version in the body of the post to stay consistent with previous entries.

As for tomorrow, I’m not certain whether Rebecca and I will be getting together or not, though one of us will do a blog entry. I either have to pick up Keekee’s remains this afternoon or tomorrow morning. Yes readers, I did have her cremated and am going to bring her home. She will sit next to my parent’s two poodles and my other cat from long ago, Peaches.

Until very soon … possibly tomorrow, take care, have a great day, and, as always, happy reading.

My pet is purr-fect

Greetings, readers. I’ve had my kitty cat Keekee for 11 plus years now and have enjoyed every moment with her. Alright, I’ll admit, she’s my kid and she’s spoiled rotten. I’m very happy to say that with two vet visits a year (her semi-annual wellness check) she is in remarkably good shape for her age.

Keekee has her daily routine just like any other being on earth. When my alarm goes off in the morning, she knows its time for breakfast. I say let’s go get it and she runs to the kitchen where her plate is. Around 11:30 she gets antsy for her dinner and that’s her second and final helping of moist food for the day. She also enjoys every morning what I call the bottom-of-the-saucer-full-of-milk.

Keekee also has many habits. She loves to sleep on my bed, look out the window for birdies, and play ball. When she’s feeling frisky she will find one of those balls and swat it around with her foot like a hockey player with a puck. She also knows exactly when I am leaving. As soon as she sees me putting on my coat or packing my book bag she goes somewhere and pouts. When I’m in Maine, she clings to Rebecca and sheds like crazy. My Maine trip is her least favorite time of the year.

She does seem to be able to tell time. If I am up too late at night, she will come out, stare me right in the face, as if to say, why are we still up?

Recently I’ve given thought about what is going to happen when Keekee is no longer with me. That will be an extremely sad day and one I am not looking forward to. I’ve had pets all of my life and I know what it is like to lose one. Will I take the plunge and get another cat? Or perhaps a small dog? Odds are yes. Where I’m living now there is not much green grass where I could let a dog run free and do its business. So I think a cat would be the way to go. But would I ever be as lucky to get a kitten as mild-mannered, well-trained, and purr-fectly spunky as my Keekee? I doubt it. I would either be allergic to the new animal or find out that its temperament is so much different from my current pet.

When I moved out of my parents house, I swore I wasn’t going to have another animal. My ex-wife and I had a pet, a wonderful dog named Sassy. I missed out on most of her life after the marriage ended and they moved to California. When I was informed by my ex-wife that Sassy had passed away, I immediately burst into tears. I wasn’t looking to have a pet when I moved into this apartment building. The Lord though had other plans. A woman who was moving out of the building had this 6-month old kitten who she rescued from the side of the road, and asked me of all people if I wanted a free pet. I took the chance and have been glad I did every day since. I expect I will have many more years ahead with Keekee but only the Lord knows.

For those of you who have not seen a picture of Keekee, here she is:

Keekee

Until next week, have a fantastic weekend, take care, and happy reading.

Top ten list of Keekee’s favorite habits

Greetings, readers. I was trying to think of a good top ten list to do and I asked Rebecca – what about a top ten list of Keekee’s favorite habits. We got out the old scratch pad to take notes, and today’s blog entry quickly came together. These are in absolutely no order whatsoever. I hope you enjoy this list.

#10. Keekee is my alarm clock. [Keekee nudges me awake for breakfast before the alarm goes off.]

#9. Jumps on top of the refrigerator to get huggy hugs and kisses too, before her little saucer of milk.

#8. Follows me around the apartment when I turn on all the lights in the morning. [We have a set pattern, going from bedroom, to bathroom, to kitchen.]

#7. Knows when I am sad or depressed. [She stays very close to me, as if to let me know that she is there.]

#6. Doesn’t mind going on the bus. [Some animals will cry, growl, or hiss, but I put a towel over her pet carrier and she has never misbehaved. She just sleeps.]

#5. Dinner and treats. [Same thing as the morning routine, but she does know the difference between words, definitely.]

#4. She knows when she’s been bad. [All we have to do is show her the air can, and she immediately stops said behavior, which usually is scratching my furniture.]

#3. Watching the 4th of July boom-booms. [Living on the eighth floor of my apartment building, I get a great view of the yearly fireworks display. Keekee sits on the window sill, and with all the lights off, we both enjoy the colorful display.]

#2. She is a good watch cat. [She knows when people are coming to the door long before I can hear them. With one person, whom she is frightened of, she puts her tail down, runs and hides.]

#1. My nap and sleeping buddy. [When it is time to take nappies or take a sleepies, within minutes she joins me on the recliner chair, goes to her spot at my feet, curls up and goes to sleep. Lately I’ve been sleeping with a scented candle on, and if I wake up at night, I can see her wrapped up in a ball and looking so cute, dreaming about who knows what.]

Keekee is either 9 or 10 years old now, I need to verify that at her next vet appointment. I don’t even want to think about the day that she goes to kitty-cat heaven. I know it is going to happen one day, and that will certainly be one of the low points in my life. I’ll deal with that then.

If any of you folks have pets and wish to share their habits and antics, please leave a comment here or on Facebook.

Until tomorrow, have a great day, take care, and happy reading. Keekee says meow.

Mud

Greetings, readers. As I’ve mentioned before, there are times in my life when I feel like I’m stuck in the mud. I just can’t get into a complete morning ’til evening routine. It is true that my morning routine is pretty well established, but once noon-time rolls around, all bets are off. I only work with Rebecca Wednesday through Friday. The weekend, Monday and Tuesday are my opportunities to write, clean the apartment, and have some me time. What I must do if I am going to continue to be a writer is take advantage of the early week and actually write.

I’ve sat at the computer before with a word document open, but no great ideas seem to take form. One time I started a short story, and the next day I edited it and realized it was total crap. I’ve been told by Rebecca never to throw any writing away, but sometimes I just cannot help myself. I know it’s garbage because what I read looked and felt forced. When I know that my writing is forced, the only place it can be put is the clunker file.

Another reason I think I’m stuck in the mud happened just last week. Rebecca was reading out loud a story I had dictated a year or two ago and I thought to myself, boy this is pretty good. Then to my shock I realized I can’t write like that anymore. Yes, my medications have been proven to dampen my brain to keep my seizures in check. I’m almost positive that this is what is affecting my creativity. I’ve got a dilemma. Obviously I don’t want seizures, but I don’t want what I call oatmeal brain either.

Between now and early March, when my best friend is coming for a visit, I’m going to tinker around with daily schedules and routines for writing. After his visit, hopefully with that routine in place, I’m going to begin to write with a vengeance. I want to have something to show for the year before camp time rolls around in August.

Lastly, you could say the cold weather is stuck in the mud, too. We’ve been having an arctic blast for a couple of weeks. The strange thing is I’m getting used to it. As long as there is no snow or ice, I suppose I can handle it.

Until Friday, keep warm, good luck with all of your endeavors, and, as always, happy reading.

My parents’ habits

Greetings, readers. During a writing exercise late last week, both Rebecca and I came to the conclusion that the work would be a good blog entry. We just now read over it and it reads a little choppy. This is the first time that I can recall that we have used a writing exercise as a blog entry. It has some good details that I want to share with you about my parents. I hope you enjoy it.

My mother was a creature of habit. I remember in her final years that she would always get up at precisely 7:00. She must have set an alarm. After getting dressed I would hear her walk down the steps and then the morning ritual would begin. First, she would unlatch the front door, then she would turn and switch on the lamp which was on the credenza. Making her way into the kitchen, she would activate the fluorescent light on our old stove.

Shortly thereafter, I would walk downstairs and join her. I was amazed at the preparation that mom took to make her morning as simple as possible. All the coffee mugs would be laid out. My oatmeal packets would be sitting in the bowl ready to be opened. This was to cut down on as much extra activity as possible. I think my mom was just like me; not a morning person.

One of us would flick on the button to begin the water boiling in the kettle. The other would turn on the coffee maker. As the coffee began brewing, Mom would open up the packets of the instant oatmeal. My two favorite flavors were peaches and cream and strawberries and cream.

Even though I was still in school, I was allowed to have coffee. I began drinking it at age ten. Half coffee, half milk. That is how I liked it. Mom would then continue with her ritualistic ways. I have dreamt of being more like her but I just can’t seem to do it. Many of my problems might be solved if I could develop more good habits.

One of the habits I need to work on is set up days to do specific tasks. For instance, laundry on Wednesdays, shopping on Mondays, and house cleaning on Saturdays. Mom had the right idea though I think she went overboard with it at some points.

Dad was kind of the same way. He never slept in. Pop was always up between 6:45 and 7:00. Got himself dressed and shaved and was down to breakfast by 8:00. In the earlier years, I believe this was because he had to teach a 9:00 class at Penn State, so he was already in the early morning mode. If I’m at Panera café by 11:00 in the morning it is a miracle. I am not a morning person.

When I go to Maine every August, I enjoy getting up early. I want to have a nice long day to do all the sundry activities that Bear Spring Camps has to offer; 9:00 fishing, lunch at 12:30, afternoon swimming and boat rides, and still the occasional happy hour. Every year I tell myself I am going to keep to this schedule when I get home. LOL. That schedule lasts about a week and then I am right back to Mr. Lazybones.

Rebecca has told me that doing something 21 times tends to make it a habit. I think in July, right before I go to camp, I will force myself to get up early and have that long day. That way when I get back from camp, I’ll already be in my new habit. Wish me luck all.

Take care, have a great day, and happy reading.

A childhood memory of when I would be head of the house when Dad was on trips

Greetings, readers. Last night as I was trying to get to sleep, my mind wandered back to my childhood. I had a happy memory of when I would take over my dad’s home office when he would go away on short trips. I was roughly 10 years old. I had no brothers or sisters, so when Dad would leave I felt like I wanted to be the man of the house. This is how I would go about accomplishing it.

Around 5:00 in the afternoon, I would get myself a soda and that would be my before-dinner “beer.” I would then sit in Dad’s chair in the living room and watch my favorite TV shows from there, instead of where I would normally sit, which was on the floor. During dinner, I would also sit at Dad’s chair at the table. Mom thought this behavior was cute, though nothing was ever said. She knew exactly what I was trying to do, though the only indication she gave me was a smile. The other big thing I would do is that at 7:00, my homework time, I would walk upstairs to Dad’s office and do my school work there, instead of at the kitchen table. Sometimes if I didn’t have much homework, I would uncover his manual typewriter. I would just start typing my thoughts for the day.

At 9:00 when they evening was over, I would come downstairs, see what Mom was up to, say goodnight and get ready for bed. I have very vivid and fond memories of what I considered taking over for Dad during those early years of my life. Honestly, as I dictate this to Rebecca, I can’t say for certain if I was practicing for real life or if I was just a kid pretending to be Dad. You must remember that imitation is the highest form of flattery.

When Dad would return from his trips though, I was just as glad to see him as he was to be home. As much as I enjoyed using his office, I gladly got back to my routine of doing homework at the kitchen table, snacking on graham crackers.

This behavior stopped around the age of say 13. Why it was so important those two or three years to mimic Dad I’m not quite sure. All I know is it always put a smile on my face. Perhaps it made me feel important.

To conclude this trip down memory lane from some 35 or 40 years ago, I enjoy thinking about my past. There are a lot of memories that I will carry with me until I pass on and while my entire childhood was not peaches and cream, being head of the house for a few days is always one of my happiest memories.

Until next week, have a great weekend, take care and happy reading.

Pride goeth before a fall

Greetings, readers. What a beautiful day it is in State College. I’m enjoying the sunshine and was out and about early, before a 10:30 meeting. It was with a social worker who is extremely caring and took plenty of time to answer all of my questions. It must be made plain right now, I am a proud man. But as I said in my play Kimberly, the time to be proud is over. I need help.

I’m dealing with quite a few things that have been snowballing over the last few years. The two biggest are my monetary status change and the recent loss of family members. Having lost my Godmother last month, I am now on my own in State College, except for good friends. My family is with the angels.

For years I tried to help myself, deluded into thinking things will turn out okay. I ignored most of my problems by watching Netflix or playing PS3 games. After talking with Jan, I’ve set some goals for the next few months and will be taking the appropriate steps to meet those goals. I’m not afraid to ask for help anymore. As a matter of fact, I might go overboard the other way for a while. I am certain though, as I get more confident, I will be able to do the things I need to do and ask for help when I need it. Being proud at this time, for me anyway, is silly.

Two major changes in my daily routine will affect my mental status right away. As of tomorrow, I shall be waking up early and having coffee at home. The other major change will be doing my writing from approximately 8 or 9 until almost noon. Rebecca’s husband has told me that even if you write crap every day, go ahead and write everyday. I am going to heed that advice.

Now that I am open to assistance and suggestions, please feel free to drop a reply if you have any helpful tips about depression or general well-being. This ends this rare Thursday blog entry. Take care and happy reading.