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  • Writer's pictureMonty Wolfe

Routinely Rebellious

On principle, I’m repulsed by routine, but I also cling to it like a big blue blanket. I find that I expend most of my energy during each day in this tug of war between routine and rebellion.

Yesterday, just like every day, I woke up around 3am. I tossed around for about an hour, found Starbuck in the folds of the duvet near the foot of the bed and dragged her lifeless body up to chest level for some forced spooning. She’s like melatonin with fur. Rubbing her belly and smelling her “happy smell” puts me right back to sleep.

Around 6am, I’m awake for good. I take a diet pill and stagger into the kitchen to start a cup of coffee. I’ve got one of those cool-ass little Italian espresso makers that I set directly on the burner. Kevin hates it, because if the burner is too high (which it always is), it spits coffee all over the backsplash. While my coffee is cooking, I take my shower. I guess at that point, my brain shuts down autopilot.

I go in the kitchen, pour my coffee (and add 3 ice cubes), I grab some cheese and nuts and maybe a banana, and head back to the bedroom. I get dressed, hop on the computer, and check Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and CNN – Has the world blown up yet? *Crossing Fingers* Once thirty minutes has transpired since I took my diet pill, I eat my breakfast.

Around 7 or 8, it’s time for Starbuck’s morning pee break. It’s just a quickie walk – I don’t even put on her harness – just her collar and leash. I make sure she has food and water, and I place one treat out on the bedroom sink (yes, we have a bedroom sink). We head out and run down to the bottom of our driveway at the parking lot entrance to the synagogue. She sniffs around a bit (more quickly if she’s cold but less quickly if I’m cold) and does her business. Immediately, we run back up to the house. Her real walk comes later. I don’t have time to dilly-dally before work or classes.

Back inside, I give her the treat – and instead of eating her food or drinking some water, she just stands in the middle of the room – staring at me. I’ve never quite figured out why she does that or what she’s trying to communicate. It’s time for me to head out the door, so I grab my backpack, scan the room a few more times, walk to the kitchen and make sure the burners are off, go to the restroom, go back to the kitchen and check the burners again, go back in the bedroom – and there’s Starbuck still standing in the middle of the room being weird – I tell her I love her and pet her and she responds with her emotionless stare like Commander Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation – I go back to the kitchen one more time… everything is okay, so I finally think it’s okay to leave, so I do.

Usually about halfway down the driveway, I decide to go back to get my umbrella. It’s not always raining – I just feel weird to walk away without it. Today, I ran back in and Starbuck had moved to the hallway, but again, she’s just standing there – motionless. On occasion, I’ve seen her walk into the living room, to see for herself that I’ve really left – or she goes back into the bedroom and curls up on the bed – but today, she was just standing like a stoic stuffed animal in the middle of the hallway – like I caught her in some sort of misanthropic act and her defense is to remain motionless, since she knows I can only see motion, just like a T-Rex.

Work, as usual, was just an 8 hour pause in my life. I’ve got tons of homework and readings to tackle, a script to revise for a grant application, and a video project to shoot for my documentary class. On top of all that, I want to edit a little promo video for my friends in Farm Animals - a local stoner rock garage band - that I shot a few weeks ago during their show at The Liquor Store on Belmont.

My job, aside from being how I kinda make ends meet, just feels pointless and inconvenient. On the bright side, the hot guy Colin (we’ll just call him Colin) was struttin’ his stuff all day. He knows I think he’s delicious, and even though I’m just a little hobbit, it feeds his ego (nothing wrong with that - we all need some ego feeding from time to time). Occasionally, he wears his street clothes at work - or I bump into him as he’s leaving in his street clothes - and OMG - fucking fine. Hobbits love three things - food, good pipe weed, and hot guys to flirt with (look it up - it’s in the The Silmarillion).

Kevin picked me up after work - and being Sushi Saturday, we headed to our new favorite sushi place. Yesterday was Indian food Friday. On the way to sushi we kept seeing people in sorta cheap pajama-style animal costumes - like, not quite furries - but probably something anime inspired. Everything nowadays seems to be. I’m not saying anime going mainstream has anything to do with the current state of things in America, but I’m not saying it doesn't either. It's either anime or CERN. Anyway, some of the not-quite-furry people came in and had sushi - and that’s really where that story ends.

Back at home, I took Starbuck for her long walk. It sucks when I’m not home early enough to walk her in the daytime, but we still make the most of it. Tonight, we made a big loop through Lair Hill, the neighborhood below us. I’m working on revisions for a script, so I just crank up my music and zone out, basically daydreaming the film, while Starbuck does her thing. I don’t try to restrict her too much. I mean, this is what she’s waited all day for - this is her thing. Why would I limit her fun? As for me, I’m usually going through all this catharsis while we’re out. Daydreaming the film, I cry and feel elation and pain and joy - I imagine the story, the filming, even audience reactions and the interviews after. I know I’m a weirdo - but that’s what I’ve always done. Mozart heard music - and I literally experience the film. It works, because I came up with some really great ideas for the script.

We got home - and then it was time to shoot my project for my documentary class - which was getting footage of Kevin giving Starbuck her bath. She was not too keen on being the star of the show, but she did a pretty good job - like that time Whoopi Goldberg got roped into starring in that dinosaur cop buddy movie. She didn’t want to do it, but it’s still Whoopi Goldberg, so you know she did a good job.

And now, here I am, finishing up this blog post. I missed writing one last night. I let time get away from me and suddenly it was super late and I was tired… I’ve also been neglecting my French lessons. The surprising difficulty of my Film History class has kinda rocked my routine a bit. I’m sure I’ll get back in the swing of things tho...

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