Mornings for me are a bit wonky. Is this not an accurate statement for 80 percent of the population? I have always felt that I have a knack for empathy and can sense what is somewhat “usual” for others. I can’t imagine that there are many people that don’t feel slightly off-kilter in the morning for at least a modicum of time. Depending on how I feel the night before, I set my alarm for a “get up and write” amount of time, or a “latest possible” time hack. Either way, I have to have my “mosey time” each morning or I am not suitable for the outside world.
For those curious among you – “mosey time” is that dimension of space between now and then that is not assigned to any required outcome. I don’t have to brush my teeth, make coffee, hurry and get ready, or do anything I don’t want to during “mosey time.” It requires at least a half hour, but usually involves more. Otherwise my brain tries to interfere with its medicinal powers by staring at the clock and worrying that it’s almost over. If you have a partner, “mosey time” requires that they have an established schedule that you can arrange this tick-tock sanctuary around so they don’t interrupt that time-space continuum, or hopefully they also enjoy a quiet chunk of unreality. Did I mention that “mosey time” requires peace and quiet?
Allow me to insert a quick “previously on interruptingcow” paragraph. I recently moved to Idaho and am temporarily living apart from my partner of five years who has a morning routine and mosey of her own; I hastily decided to share a small apartment with a co-worker, and am gradually losing my patience with the whole mess.
Roomy said she’d prefer to get up at 0630 and ready herself for the day (along with her Shitzu) being confident that she can be out of the bathroom by 0700 or thereabouts each morning. Having already experienced that roomy is rather talkative … all the time, I decided to plan my morning mosey from 0530ish to 0700 and only come out of my room before she gets up or once I hear the shower water running to grab some juice or coffee. I need a little more mosey time than normal each morning, what with the perpetual nuisance of pesky roomy and her animal of entitlement that should never be honored with the title “dog.” (Perhaps an article on why creatures known as Shitzu are not dogs and have no personality is in order in the near future.) DISCLAIMER: Please understand, that aside from her bad choice in pets, there may actually be nothing wrong or unacceptable with Roomy, other than the unfortunate fact that she has landed herself into the position of my unwanted Roomy.
I’ve enjoyed a little mosey-licious breathing room this morning. I was up at 0600 and had a little OJ and silent read and write time. Roomy got up exactly at 0630, let her dog out and then jumped in the shower. It is 0656 now and she just turned on the hair dryer. We’ll see how well the schedule goes today. I may just get lucky and her schedule will be as discussed this morning. I just can’t wait until I have my own place OR M moves and we have our old mornings back. You see, just by virtue of its definition, “mosey” involves leisure – free time. Freedom means that its not bound by something as sinister as the unpredictable morning plans of a non-kindred-spirit room mate. So my mosey is a bit broken these days.
Taking on a day after a broken mosey is like playing Russian Roulette. Its like Forrest Gump’s box of life chocolates – you never know what your gonna’ get.