Manic or maniac
Let me just start by saying I’ve had a good share of birthdays. While I will be eternally grateful for every birthday I have, many of you will understand what I’m about to describe. I refer to them as my “manic mornings,” but in reality, I think these manic mornings have more to do with a manic memory, which translates to lots of birthdays. See what you think ...
After finally rolling out of bed, I finish my morning routine, make my bed and head down the stairs. Inevitably I begin thinking ... Did I turn off the nightlight in the bathroom? I think I did, but I’m not 100 percent certain ... Back up the stairs, and yes, the nightlight has been turned off. I head back downstairs to continue my morning routine. But wait a minute ... Did I turn off the ceiling fans or didn’t I? I’m sure I did, but I better go check. Back up the stairs, and yes, the ceiling fans are off.
Maybe there’s time for a bite of breakfast and a cup of coffee on the deck — or maybe not. I just like to try to take a breath or two before the chaos of the day begins. The cat is often overly loving at this point in the day, and as I attempt to scurry around the kitchen, she intertwines repeatedly around my legs in an attempt to get my attention until I realize her “love” is masked by a nearly empty food bowl. Her love for me pales to her love for Purina Cat Chow.
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