I have already provided a tutorial on How to Make a Sammich Like a Bitch, so I’ve decided not a how-to-cook post. In fact, given the defensive, combative comments some readers leave, it’s likely best I don’t tell you how to do things I do exceptionally well. I’m a big picture person. I care about results, not processes. It would be infinitely more joyful and much more fun to tell you how to do something I’m bad it, so you can either feel superior or commiserate.
First note that time after dinner is moving rapidly and your list of things to do and read and watch will keep you up til 3am, but you have to rise to work in the morning, and you’re not down for that kind of tired. At that point, you should pout about how being an adult who is not independently wealthy is a tale of woe. Pout only to yourself, because everyone feels the same way. Momentarily dream of a life where you can rise at will and do all of your best work before dinner. Then note the increasing frequency of your husband’s yawns. Type faster. When he turns off the tv, type rapidly and tell him you will join him shortly. Take your bottles/cans/glasses/mugs/plates/wrappers/silverware, kleenexes, and napkins to the kitchen. Go back for your phone. Stop to hug Moo. Walk into the bedroom, see your husband in bed. Undress/dress for bed. Wash your face. Forget you have glasses on your head, watch them fall into the sink. Pee. You’re very old now and every time you run water, you need to pee. Moisturize. Get some in your hair. Brush your teeth, floss. Sit on your bed and try to scroll your Instagram. Check your bedside for specs, because you can’t read a fucking thing. If you have readers in the there, you get one gold star. If not, go in search of one of the five pair you cannot find when you need them. You have already forgotten there’s a pair on the bathroom sink. Don’t look now, but there’s another pair on the dresser and another on the chest of drawers. Once you have your glasses, like and comment on your Instagram and plug your phone in. Remember you need to take your medicine. Get your medicine. Stop to hug Moo. Question whether you have water in the bottle at your bedside… From what you can recall it’s mostly just kleenex. Odds are not in your favor. Get water to take your medicine. Walk around holding pills in one hand, trying to make a glass of water with the other. Try to drink water and take pills while walking back to the bedroom. Choke. Trip on cats who are rushing to the laundry room to be fed. Feed the cats. Remember you have a load of towels in the wash. Rotate those. Turn around, hug Moo. Sit on the bed again. Balm your lips, cream your hands, and maybe lotion your legs and/or feet. Find clickie. It’s probably under the bed. Turn on shows. Cuddle husband, being sure to flip and flop to acquire the perfect position. It’s hot. Get up, walk to the other end of the house, and turn the air down. Moo wants another hug. Moo will follow you to the bedroom. She will want to talk to you about what hurts on her body now. Sassy will arrive, to lie between you and your husband, to demand petting and to talk about her feelings. Moo will be jealous, and will stick her leg in your face so you can tickle it. The cats, having eaten, want to be part of. While Catticus perches at the end of the bed and begins his nightly bathtime ritual, the other two cats climb over whatever body parts are bridges to where they can best situate their bottoms in your face. Meanwhile, the dog, beside herself with jealousy, licks the leg you just lotioned. As you do regularly, announce to the children that you must get some sleep. Hug and kiss the children at least three times. Repeatedly tell them you love them. You love them, too. No, you love them more. Lie upon husband. Flip and flop again, because that perfect position is long gone now. Yell about how your door is too open and there’s a light on in Tibet. Begin to relax. Realize you forgot to set your alarm. Do that, but yank it, so that it comes unplugged so you may spend considerable time trying to plug the damn thing back in. Lie on husband. Do you have to pee again? Go pee. As soon as you lie down and get comfy, the dryer buzzes. Do not get up and fold it. That can be the thing you remember before bed tomorrow night.