A day in the life of an RA fanatic (two versions)

What's my excuse for absence this time, you ask? It will all become clear in a moment.

 See, I'm doing two posts for the FanstRAvaganza, and one of them is something like "A day in the life of an RA fanatic."

I had planned on writing my daily activities, intermixed with RA-related silliness.

But that was before my days started to decrease in the interesting-factor. I no longer diligently get up, make breakfast for my husband and I, tidy up, head off to work, come home, make dinner all in an orderly(ish) manner. 

No, now I kind of sluggishly haul myself everywhere, proud of myself if I manage to wipe down a bathroom without puking.


So you get to see the two versions.

My days have been going something like this (dramatized, somewhat, for viewer's entertainment);

7:00 a.m. Get woken up by husband, steadfastly refuse his well-meant offers of breakfast in bed, instead snarl at him like a hibernating bear and hide under the covers for two more hours, emerging only to grouchily accept a good-bye kiss.

9:00 a.m. Force self out of bed, slowly attempt to inhale-exhale nausea away. Moan to self for about three minutes, then slowly make way into kitchen. Force self to make breakfast. Feel wretchedly nauseus, force food down throat, pray it stays down. Barf. Attempt to wash breakfast dishes and put eggs away.

10:00 a.m. Lie on couch feeling sorry for self. Read newspaper article. Feel ill, try to nap. 

11:00 a.m. Force self up off the couch, rummage around bedroom drawers, try to find reasonably presentable outfit for work. 

11:15 a.m. Realize that efforts are futile, that there is no way I can survive a whole afternoon in cafe, unless I can purchase a nose-plug, but realize that would be bad for business. Call friend/employer and apologize for not being able to make it to work again. Think that sympathetic understanding of friend masks extreme irritation and feel sorry for self once more.

12:00 p.m. Force self to eat lunch. Pray it stays down, but it doesn't. Tidy living room, flop down on couch once again. Watch What Not To Wear, sleep, attempt to snack, sleep some more. 

3:00 p.m. Do things that I actually don't remember. Probably more of snacking, tv watching and sleeping.

5:00 p.m. Make some sort of semblance of a dinner for my husband. Attempt to eat it.

7:00 p.m. Go to bed. Usually try to read, but fatigue and nausea have their way with me and I just sleep.




Fun, right? And engrossing in the extreme, right?
No.

So here's what I USED  to do, before I was attacked blessed with this pregnancy.


6:30 a.m. Get up, get dressed, wash face, put up hair. Wonder what kind of hairstyle Richard likes. Updo, or out? Pick up the clothes I chucked on the floor on the previous night because I was too tired to put them away. (and then I was stalking a certain someone online.)

7:00 a.m. Prepare breakfast for awakening husband, greet him with a kiss and sit down to eat with him. Wonder what Richard usually has for breakfast. Does he cook, or is it usually just plain ol' cereal and milk? Ponder this while trying to appear nonchalant in front of husband.

7:30 a.m Finish breakfast, clear table, wash dishes, wipe counters. Imagine Richard cleaning a kitchen. Does he have a maid? Dismiss the thought in horror. Half-wish he was here cleaning with me. Realize that wouldn't do at all, would only provoke marriage problems and (perish the thought!) temptations of infidelity. Bid husband goodbye as he leaves for work. Try not to appear guilty.

8:15 a.m. Pick up books from the living area, do a load or two of laundry, fold and put away said laundry. Ponder Richard's clothing size. Make mental note to google this at some point.

9:45 a.m. Wash bathrooms. Find Richard's smiling face a distraction, spend several minutes staring off into space and then chiding self for being so immature.

10:30 a.m. Relax a bit. Read a book, go for a short walk, browse the internet (*ahem*). Make self a lunch to bring to work. Imagine Richard eating lunch. Wonder what his favourite meal is. Decide to google this as well, at some point.

11:30 a.m. Arrive at work. Proceed to spend six or seven hours brewing coffee, pouring coffee, making small-talk with cafe customers. Realize hope is ridiculous, and yet can't help glancing hopefully at the door every time the bell rings. You never know, He might be traveling (?) at some point and want to stop by for a cup of coffee. Eat lunch around 12:30. Try to remember where I put my Robin Hood DVDs. Have horrible craving to see some of Guy's sexy evilness.

5:30 p.m. Come home, prepare dinner for husband and self. Possibly have ex-roommate over. As long as I am distracted by her constant banter, some thoughts of Richard cease to harass me.

6:30 p.m. Eat dinner, chat. Make sure not to mention ANYTHING Richard-related, for fear that some day roommate will betray "previous" obsession, and husband will either a) be horribly offended or b) tease me until the day I die.

7:30 p.m. Clean up, put food away, attend to any important things that need to get done. Mainly, what's Richard been up to lately? What movie (that he's in) should I watch next?

8:30 p.m. Relax, watch a movie (not Robin Hood, that's for later when I'm in bed, on my laptop with my earphones so husband doesn't notice the way I stare at a certain villain in leather), watch tv, read a book, play a board-game, browse the internet (*ahem*).

9:30 p.m. Do more laundry, find something useful to do. Give up on useful and stalk RA on the internet some more.

10:30 p.m. Get ready for bed, brush teeth, write grocery list. Also attempt to write and ode to Richard's eyes, but realize efforts are futile. A poet I most certainly am not.

11:00 p.m. Go to bed. Or rather, get into bed. Pop DVD into laptop, and watch Guy's face until my eyelids refuse to stay open and I get a headache or husband commands me to turn off the laptop as the light is interfering with his sleep.


This is of course, in general. A lot of the time I'm not nearly as organized as I should be. 
...Especially now.


Another post tomorrow! (and more fun over HERE!)
xo
Rose