Yeast Baby

(Written previously)

Let me start your day with how mine already needs to be over… all before sunrise.

I have somehow developed a midnight snack routine -which I’ve never had in my life until now. Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe it’s the catastrophic life change thing after being a human lawn dart… Don’t know, but I’m not a fan and yet I find myself in the kitchen around 1-2 am fairly regularly.

In the limited free time my fiance has, she lovingly made me a loaf of banana/chocolate/nut bread as well as a fresh loaf of homemade bread 2 days ago. Of course, I am still unable to taste most of either one because my senses haven’t completely returned from having COVID, but that’s ok, my bread addiction doesn’t care about technicalities.

After consuming half the nanner bread and almost all the white bread yesterday, I woke up at 2am this morning as usual and hobbled to the kitchen to polish off the last of the white bread. Due to inconsistent slicing on my behalf, I stood before an end chunk that was too thick to be one piece, but not thick enough to be cut into 2 pieces without mangling both. It was also slightly hardened because I managed to forget to completely seal the baggie it was being stored in after my last viking style kitchen raid.

Into the microwave with my yeast boulder. 20 seconds it took to soften, which also made it hot enough to slather butter on. If I could taste it, I knew it would be delicious. By this time, my cat Harley knew someone was awake and managed to squeeze in a minute’s worth of endless meowing and frantic scratching at the door to be let in from the garage. You see, any movement inside the house needs his supervision. He spends his nights in the garage because he’s decided to be a dick to our little female when we sleep -but that’s a different story.

With hot buttered bread in hand, and a howling cat at my back, I returned to my room so I could pretend to enjoy my fist-sized crust chunk. Once I got into bed, it became a race. My stomach still grumbled, but my mind decided it was time to go back to sleep. I managed to find a compromise – Sometimes I’d wake up with a mouth full of bread. Sometimes I’d wake up smashing the bread into my bed under the weight of my dead hand. Why continue to eat it you ask? Because I neither wanted to walk it back to the kitchen nor leave it out on the nightstand to harden overnight.

While managing this task, I also realized I somehow did not complete a private message I had typed before initially going to bed. About the 3rd time I noticed I had yet to complete the thought, I deleted it… Just not meant to be I guess. After an hour of playing this game, I finished the bread and went back to sleep.

Around 4:45am, the yeast baby brewing in my guts woke me up so I could enjoy my previous error in judgment. I decided to go ahead and take my daily meds. That’s my usual MO anyway. Wake up early, take meds, go back to bed, wake up about an hour later and get my day of mostly being in bed started. At 6am my eyes opened and I was unable to remember if I had actually taken my meds or just a drink from my cup before returning to sleep. I didn’t remember fumbling with the bottles as I normally do because of my wrist, so there was a small amount of confidence that I did not actually take them. I decided to go ahead and do it before I forgot yet again.

Now I sit here waiting and wondering if I double dosed today. Maybe I get to see air molecules, maybe I don’t. Maybe I’ll pass this yeast baby later today, maybe it’ll just add to my fat cells. I apparently did send a sort of message at some point during the night and woke up to them asking wtf I was talking about so I had to explain that bit of randomness.

The sun hasn’t even come up yet and I’m ready to move on and see what Saturday has waiting for me.

**UPDATE** While trying to type this out, my beloved female tortoiseshell cat came in for her morning belly rubs and face scritches. Because I was trying to write this, my failed compliance required her to aggressively grind her face into my hands which left me fixing typos and closing extra windows and programs on my laptop. I continued to nudge her aside so I could finish this. For my continued disobedience, she moved right beside my keyboard, looked me dead in the face and then raised a warning paw to my cheek with partially exposed claws while she tilted her head sideways like “You know how this works” So I slid my laptop to the side in order to provide her with the mandatory morning pets. She eventually got her fill and excused herself.

Shortly after that, I got up to fix myself some breakfast – Cheerios with bananas and blueberries. The blueberries are tart enough that I can actually taste them a little so I recently began adding them to my cereal routine. I opened the brand new Cheerios Mega Box and proceeded to pour them into the bowl… and onto the counter… and onto the floor. Why? Because my dumbass decided to hold the box from the bottom like I NEVER DO and pour that way -instantly showering my immediate area with a glorious downpour of processed soluble daily fiber.

By this time Harley is inside and he can tell from a mile away when food hits the floor. So while she laughs, the fiance scrambles to sweep up the cereal because if I bend over I’ll likely fall from my random dizziness and if Harley gets a taste of something he likes, he’ll try to take it from our mouth if we let him. This is a cat that’s dumb enough to drink facing downstream water so that it rushes into his throat and chokes him out, but alert enough to know the sound of spilled food on the tile floor from the other end of the house.

This about sums up my morning events. If anything, they’re rarely boring.

And I’m serious about the water thing. I had a water fountain in the living room and had to remove it because I would randomly hear him choking – and yet he would continue to drink -facing upstream.