It’s come to my attention that I have made a habit of telling people that my mind is a really scary place, and I feel as though if you tell one person this in passing, it’s okay, but if you say it three times to three different people in a 7 day span (which is a week, for those of us living on some other calendar system that I can’t name right now because I got distracted by the stupid Wikipedia people begging for money instead of looking up calendar systems), then you probably should rethink your life. Or at least your coffee habits.
So, this post is going to be a little bit “Virginia Woolfian” (stream of consciousness, except my own twist on it because I have had WAY too much caffeine compared to my body weight and am on this insane high where the world feels like it’s going so slow and I’m in hyper-drive) in nature because I want people to realize just how much I have going on not just in my external life but in my internal combustion engine (my brain) as well. And, yes, this post will probably disturb you deeply and it might even give you nightmares. You’ve been warned.
Upon waking up in the morning, I have the following thoughts:
- What day is it? I think it’s one of the sleep-in days (do not judge me for thinking in terms of sleeping-in vs early-up. Until I’ve had 6oz of coffee, my brain does not function normally). Wait, we just had a sleep-in day. It’s probably Tuesday. Yeah, I bet it’s Tuesday.
- If it’s Tuesday, then I have to get up.
- I think I set my alarm for 6, so if I reset it for 6:30, I can sleep for 30 more minutes and still be to work at 7:30 (side note: I do this almost every day. I know I won’t make it to work by 7:30, and yet every morning I convince myself that I’ll skip my makeup and hair routine if I get to sleep a little bit longer. I never skip my hair or makeup routine.)
- Ok, alarm is set, so I can sleep for 25 more minutes!
- Wait…did I actually set it?
- I feel like it’s been more than 25 minutes!
- Why hasn’t my alarm gone off yet?!?!? (I think that a normal person would have rolled over and looked at the clock. Not me. I just lay there, feeling panicked and wondering if I’ve hit a wormhole or something)
- Click! Spin! Music plays (Like Pavlov’s dog and the bell, I’ve come to get an automatic knot in my stomach when I hear the CD engage)
My morning routine is nothing extraordinary, so I won’t go into that. Just know that I go from complete bedhead to showered, made-up, and blow-dried in 45 minutes. Then comes the part I dread; picking out clothes.
My thoughts about getting dressed:
- Ok, Schaffer (why do I call myself Schaffer? Like, why?), you have 10 minutes until you need to be driving towards work. You can do this! Pick something out!
- Pants or a dress?
- Wait, that skirt is cute…
- But it’s cold out and I’ll have to wear tights and I hate wearing tights with a skirt, unless it’s a pencil skirt, but what shirt do I wear with that? Can I get away with wearing a concert tshirt? I think I can class it up if I wear heels…but I don’t want to look like a hooker.
- HURRY UP!
- Ok, dress.
- Wait, pants are cute. I wonder how those would look with this top…
- THESE PANTS ARE HUGE!
- Ok, dress.
- Where are my black tights?
- The ones without the tear on the knee…?
- Here we go!
- Wait…did I wear this last week on the same day?
- Will anyone remember?
- Mackey might, but that won’t matter…Judgement free.
- He says he doesn’t judge me, but I know he does.
- Screw it, I’m late.
- Wait, that dress is way cuter…
- (this is outfit change number 3) UGH! I look like a cow in this!
- (back to dress number 1) Now, what shoes?
- Heels are so cute. My legs look so awesome!
- Oh, my feet hurt so bad.
- Suck it up, Schaffer.
And, 10 minutes later than I wanted to be, I’m out the door.
On the drive to work:
- (stream of conscious) IF YOU WOULD JUST GET UP THE FIRST TIME YOUR ALARM GOES OFF YOU WOULDN’T BE LATE AND YOU’D BE ABLE TO GO TO STARBUCKS EVERY MORNING AND NOT FEEL RUSHED AND YOU WOULDN’T WONDER IF YOUR CLOTHES LOOK WRINKLED AND **GET OUT OF MY WAY, YOU STUPID, STUPID HEAD IDIOT DRIVER! YOUR VANITY PLATES ARE STUPID AND I DON’T CARE IF YOU NEED TO GET GAS IN YOUR CAR, YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT LAST NIGHT ON YOUR WAY HOME WHEN YOU’D BE TURNING WITH TRAFFIC, BUT NO, YOU IDIOT, YOU HAVE TO HAVE GAS NOW AND I BET YOU’RE GOING TO BUY ONE OF THOSE STUPID HOTZI SANDWICHES SO YOU CAN DRIVE AND EAT AND MAKE US ALL GO SLOW BECAUSE YOU CAN’T PAY ATTENTION TO THE SPEEDLIMIT SIGNS.** SEE, SCHAFFER? YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE A STROKE BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO TIRED TO GET OUT OF BED. ** MERGE, YOU STUPID WENCH! MERGE! OH, AND NOW BRAKE LIGHTS? REALLY? IS 65 JUST TOO FAST FOR YOU? OH, BY ALL MEANS, GO SLOWER! IT’S NOT LIKE I HAVE TO BE ANYWHERE IMPORTANT!** TOMORROW, SCHAFFER, YOU’RE GETTING OUT OF BED ON TIME, WHETHER YOU FEEL LIKE IT OR NOT, YOU STUPID WENCH (Here’s a surprising fact; I don’t get out of bed on time the next day).
Then I work for the next 8 hours and say ridiculous things and drink way too much coffee. Here are a few of the things I think in any given day:
- I’d be rich if I could somehow create caffeinated pixy sticks.
- Charmin toilet paper is the best.
- Dresses are awesome because it means I don’t have to wear pants but am still being appropriate.
- I wish I would have invented the swiffer.
- I wonder if dogs get headaches?
- Oooo, I bet Huffington Post has some really cute animal videos!
- NO! Do not watch videos at work. That will not end well for you.
- Forget “Sweet Sixteen,” I want to produce a show called “Bodacious Bar/Bat Mitzvah.” That would totally get awesome ratings.
- How much can you whiten your teeth before they start to disintegrate…that chick in the Crest White Strips commercial must have serious tooth sensitivity…HOLY COW, I BET SHE USES SENSODYNE! How scandalous would that be? Hehe, watch your back, Kim Kardashian.
- I’d be scared to sit down if I had butt implants. What if you sat down in a sudden manner and they burst? How totally awkward would that be?
- I’ve had the song from “The Little Mermaid” stuck in my head for 4 days now.
- Coffee is so good.
- How fast is too fast for my heart to beat in a minute?
- Bikinis are out at Target.
- Must do ab work out.
- My lips are so soft.
I’d go on, but I think you get the idea.
And my evenings are pretty much a more mellowed out version of the day. Actually, my evenings are when my brain mellows to the point of normalcy and productive creativity.
I leave you with this conversation, just in case you had any doubt that my mind is a scary place to be left unattended:
(Scene: Mackey’s cube, the Wednesday before Christmas break begins at work; people are winding down, ready for a break from the daily grind)
MR: Did you get that email I sent you? The one about flying with a tailwind? “Expect an early arrival because we’re flying fast, like coked-out butterflies”?
Mackey: Yeah, that was awesome!
K: You know what? I bet hummingbirds don’t exist. No, I bet they’re just coked-out butterflies. All this time we thought that hummingbirds are these really awesome creatures and we give them nectar but really it’s just a bunch of tweaking butterflies that we’re helping get high.
Mackey: (silent laughter while he holds his sides)
MR: (a mix of chuckle and giggle) You should tweet that.
K: Ehn, I already forgot what I said.
Mackey: I didn’t.
K: You’d better give me credit for that tidbit.
Mackey: Of course!
MR: Heh, tweaking butterflies…
K: Oh man, have you guys ever noticed that hummingbirds would be awesome at treading water? They’re already doing the figure 8 with their wings, and all you’d be doing is adding some water to their normal routine! How cool would it be if a bird could tread water?!?!
MR: Uhm…
Mackey: Katie…they’re birds.
K: Yeah? So what?
Mackey: They don’t have to tread water. They fly. That’s what they do. If they’re ever in a drowning situation, they just fly away.
K: I see what you’re saying.
MR: Wow.
K: But I mean, if you could just explain the situation to the hummingbird, that it’s for science and all, I’m sure any hummingbird would be happy to oblige and tread for at least a little bit.
Mackey: Yes, I’m sure it would.
MR: You should tweet that too.
Mackey: Already on it.
(Because I believe there’s nothing more to be said about the subject, it’s time to end scene)
Our Father's Mustache 