Saturday Morning

I woke up this morning and had a typical Saturday Zach experience. I like to do a lot of things at the same time. It starts with breakfast. We haven’t been to the store all week so I find a bag of frozen biscuits and throw ’em in the oven. I start a load of laundry. I give the dishes in the sink the eye. The garbage needs to be taken out, so I get the trash cans in the bedroom and bathroom and dump them into the one in the kitchen. It’s all about the timing. I complete the latter task while the biscuits take the extra couple of minutes to finish.

I adore mindless multitasking. I am rarely happier, or more content, then when I’m cooking dinner, tending to laundry, and emptying the dishwasher while listening to a podcast. It’s very likely that if, one hour later, you asked me one sentence spoken from the podcast, I wouldn’t be able to do it. This is my “happy place” after work. Doing things and being productive in a trivial way is my wheelhouse.
Now I have my biscuits with peanut butter and some cranberry juice to ward off the sore throat that the wife has. I’m going to finish my morning words and decide what to do next. I have a consultation with an Emory professor about a project that I have yet to start. There are countless distractions on the Internet waiting for me.

The biscuits are still so hot that the peanut butter probably will melt onto the keyboard if I try to eat one. Alison hates that I eat biscuits on peanut butter. She says that it’s not a southern thing, although the rest of her family doesn’t agree. Maybe they’re just sucking up to me. In any case, I like peanut butter anything, and it’s my default meal when nothing else is available.
In a few minutes the laundry will be through the cycle and I get to rotate the moist clothes into the dryer. On the way back, I could empty the dishwasher. Yep, it’s Saturday morning indeed.

For deeper thoughts, read my previous post, Zach Goes to Church.

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