Week #9

My life is a routine, doing the same things Monday through Friday. I start the day off a few minutes before 4:30am. Laying in bed dreading David getting out of bed and leaving for work and not returning until about 7pm. His alarm goes off at 4:30, and then scheduled to go off three more times, seven minutes apart. David claims this helps him wake up more, when all it really does is get under my skin, but its a battle that I'm not going to win. He gets up at 4:51, turning on the closet light so the big light wont burn our eyes, as hes getting dressed, I head out into the kitchen and make his lunch, cereal for his 9:00 break, last nights leftovers for his 12:00 lunch break, and a little debbies snack for his last break at 3:00, add in two cans of mountain dew and a bottle cool blue gatorade, and his big blue lunch box is packed for the day.  Davids out the door for the day at 5:07am.

Its 5:07 and I have no were I have to be until 2:30. For nine and a half hours its just me and my dog, Brodey. I dont go back to bed because I hate sleeping when I'm home alone, if someones going to break in, I at least want to be able to escape. So, I head to the laundry room, folding the clothes in the drier, putting the clothes from the washer into the drier, and then taking care of the newly folded clothes. From there, I make the bed, telling Brodey I wish his Daddy would learn to put his dirty clothes in the hamper just four feet away from his usual pile. After cleaning up the bedroom, I make my way to the sink, by now the sun is starting come up, I look out the window above the sink as I begin to soak my hands in dish water, my mind starts to wander what life has in store for me next. I graduate this spring, will I go back to get a different degree? Will I look for a full time job? or is now the time to start having a family? Most importantly, how will I decide? As these questions boggle my mind, I look down at Brodey whos laying directly beside my feet, so close to them I can feel his warm breath. He looks back up at me. I wonder what he's thinking. Does he know hes a dog? I wonder if he gets sick of me? Do all dogs REALLY go to heaven? (A question that crosses my mind more often than not.) My mind refocuses on the dishes as I prick my finger one the tip of a steak knife.

I finish up the dishes, its about 7:00am, and I notice Brodey's dish is empty. I fill his water dish up, spilling a little on me as I try to gently put it down, then picking up his food dish and filling it to the brim with pedigree. I set it down and he looks up at me. As usual, I have to ask myself, is he sick of eating the same thing every day? Does it even taste good? As I go to walk away to inspect the floors, I apologize to him for having to eat the same thing every day. I look around the floors, clearly, they need to be swept and washed. I dread this task the most, considering it takes the longest time. 

I begin to sweep, and my mind leaves me again. What would I go back to school for? Nursing has always been in the plan, getting my R.N., getting a job somewhere that doesnt require working weekends, and settle into a new routine. Unfortuately, I remind myself that in health care, its 24/7, no weekends off, especially in hospitals and nursing homes. So where would I work as an R.N. that would give weekends off? Weekends off are important to me, they give me something to look forward to, they're the only two days off that have unexpected schedules, adding some spontaneous excitement into my life. Ok, so maybe going back to school for medical assisting? That'd be ideal, I could get a job at a doctors office, they always have weekends off, even holidays. That'd be perfect. I catch myself, remembering that I heard medical assistants do the same work as an R.N. only get paid less. I quickly decide the money doesnt matter. Weekends off with a normal work schedule is what I want. Or is it?

The floors are now all swept and its about 8:30am now, which means that in about thirty minutes I'll be exchanging a few text messages with David while hes on his 9:00 break. I move onto the mop and orange glow, and it doesnt take but seconds to fall back into my future.

Is back to school the way to go, or is having our first child? One minute I've got it in my mind that I could do it, waking up all hours of the night, settling right down into pure family mode, and then I quickly ask myself, "What are you thinking?". I get scared, can I REALLY do that. What will people think? I'm married, but we're still just 22. Maybe we should wait? or should we? Who decides this? Oh, wait, we do. I can see it now, nine months of mood swimgs for David to deal with, labor that will, hopefully, bring David and I even more closer, falling a little more in love with eachother, most of all, falling into a new love. A love with our child. I go back to questioning school. Will I find a good enough job with the degree I'll get this Spring when I gradute to help take care of our little family, or is it smarter to go back for two more years to ensure it? The only thing I decide on is that I'm way too indecisive.

I'm brought back to reality when Brodey walks across the freshly washed floors. He's just a dog, what does he know? Besides hes already scared of the mop and broom for no reason, no need to get all bent out of shape over a few paw prints. It's 10:00 now, four and a half hours until I have to be at work. I'm worn out, so Brodey and I go lay down on the bed. As usual, I lay on Davids side of the bed, Brodey on mine, he lays on his back, my left arm is around him and he's snuggled up into my armpit, while I stroke his soft, silky ear.

Which reminds me. Will Brodey be good with kids? Will I be good with kids? More specifically, a boy? Brodey is a boy and David claims I've "ruined" him. He's the most sensitive dog either of us have ever seen, even slightly feminine. David wanted a mans dog, one that would ride in the back of his truck, that would go hunting with him, and spend days in the garage with him. Not Brodey, over my dead body will he be riding in the back of a pick up truck, and he wouldnt come out from underneath the bed after a gun shot to even go hunting, and garage? No, he spends days with mommy, cuddling and being talked to as if he is capable of responding. So a son? Would I "ruin him"? Make him a mommy's boy? I told David he'd have to build us a sand box and get us some tonka toys, so I could make him a mans man. But I cant compromise on the cuddling.

Its 10:30, and I've got homework. I concentrate better at the dining room table, but talk myself into sitting in the recliner to do the work. It takes longer than usual as I bounce between facebook, Bangor Daily news, and texting my mom. But finally at about 1:15 I decide I'm done my homework for the day. I have to get ready for work now.

The shower is another spot I spend time thinking about our future. I feel stressed out and overwhelmed, I feel as if David and I's lives are depending on the decicion I chose. He supports me either way, baby or school, he's ready for our own little family as much as I am. Just like any other day, I decide that when David gets home I'll talk to him, see what he thinks we should do, what I should do. I know I'll just get the same answer, "Hun, its what you want. If you think school for two more years is best, then I do too, if you want to have a baby, then I do too." I need decisions to be made, I need to get out of my routine, add a little excitement to my life. I hop in the car at 2:00 and being my thirty minute drive, where again, I'll be alone with my thoughts, battling where I want to go next in life.