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Tag Archives: routine

BMB: How I Found Out I Died. (Fiction)

03 Sunday Jul 2022

Posted by crashdlanding in BMB, Fiction, Uncategorized

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birthday month blogs, BMB, crash landing, crashdlanding, death, fiction, I liked this one, July, routine, work, writing

Day Three of Birthday Month of Blogs.

The day started out like every other. Woke up twenty minutes before my alarm, and barely dozed back off before the alarm finally buzzed. Got up, contemplating life choices for a moment before getting ready for work. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

I had zero customers ask me for help, which isn’t unusual on a Sunday morning. We don’t get many in before church.

I was able to get a lot more done on my ever growing list. This was in spite of all the cleaning up after other people I’d had to do. This too was not unusual.

Now, normally, when I have a lot to do, which isn’t unusual, I keep my nose in my own business and stay focused on what needs to be done. I don’t go looking for conversation when I need to be working.

I do, however, get distracted with tasks better left to a less busy day.

But I soon began to realize that none of my coworkers had spoken to me. I often saw them in passing, even if we are short handed on Sunday mornings. But not a one spoke to me. I quickly chalked it up (side note: I had to Google that to make sure I used it correctly) to either me being my grumpy self, or my running theory that no one really likes me. It was that or everyone was just as busy as I was.

When I used the radio to ask a question and no one answered, well, the radio has been wonky for a while. At least I can hear on it. Oh well.

When lunch time rolled around, I finished up some business and walked around to try and find someone to cover me. After a few minutes I saw someone from neighboring department. His keys worked on the locks in my area, so he was my usual coverage. I waved at him, signaling an L with my thumb and forefinger, and I thought he nodded.

I sat at lunch with my phone and earbuds, watching silly short-form videos. “I really need to quit this,” I thought to myself, for the hundredth time. But I continued watching, while the break room had people come and go, once again ignoring me.

When I went back out to the floor, the church crowded had begun to make their way in. This always made my job infinitely harder. Between helping customers and getting around them, it meant that my efficiency went downhill.

But no one asked me for help. I saw plenty of them ask my coworkers for help. They would struggle around my department a bit, even though I’d overheard what they’d been looking for and told them the exact location. When something was needed from a case, someone else got it. Phone calls were picked up before I got to them.

What was happening?

I stood for a moment, staring at my company provided device, not really seeing what was in my had but trying to work out in my mind what was really happening.

My paranoid brain thought it was a twisted torture intended to make me insane. Logic told me I was ridiculous.

Then this woman walked by. I didn’t notice her initially, she saw me first. She was older, maybe early to mid 50s. Dark gray hair, wild and curly and long. Clear blue eyes, eyes that belied her age. Gold wire framed glasses with big round lenses. And she wore a spectacularly shabby yet brightly colored dress.

She’d stopped right in front of me and did a double take. The most attention to have been paid me all day. “Well hello!” She said brightly.

“Oh, uh,” I stuttered. “Hello. Can I help you?”

“Nope.” She said, matter-of-factly. “But I can help you.”

After a moment’s confusion I replied. “Uh what now?”

“My dear, you don’t know?” She seemed sad. “Well, this can happen. It does quite often. I honestly think I’m the only one in this small town who has left their mind open.” She sighed. “It’s a shame really.”

“I’m confused.” I said finally.

“My dear,” she said, “what happened this morning? I feel like it was this morning. Still kind of fresh.”

“Nothing, the usual. I broke a jar of pimientos. Who puts glass jars on the top shelf?!” I said, exasperated. “Wait, why am I telling you this, I don’t know you.”

“I have that affect on the soul. You close yourself off a lot, don’t you? Don’t let your self open. Just go with the flow. So much negativity on you.” She scolded, then shrugged. “Oh well, too late now.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Sweetheart, something happened this morning. But, I think you’re so used to a pattern, a routine, that you’re soul just went on about it’s day.”

“My soul? What do you know about my soul?”

“For one it’s tired. Had been for a while I think. But that’s not important. It needs to think about what happened this morning.”

“I—”

This morning? I woke up? Got ready for work. Drove here, there was a squirrel. But there’s always squirrels. I live in Tree City USA. There are small animals and birds everywhere. Stupid squirrel. Couldn’t decide which way to get out the road. It was too late to break so I swerved. “Oh.”

“There it is.”

“I, I swerved.” I mumbled. “I shoulda swerved right but I swerved left.” At least there weren’t other cars. “The River.” I said. “I knew those guardrails weren’t strong enough.” I said to myself. I looked up at her. “I’ve always been afraid of that River.”

“Yeah, it’s a scary river. Lotta people in there.”

“WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?!” I shouted.

“Muscle memory.” She said, nonchalantly.

“Mus-what?”

“You know,” she said. “When your muscles and your brain are so used to something that they do it without you having to think about it?”

I rolled my eyes. “I know what it is.”

“Yeah, well your body had done this,” she gestured around. “That your soul just went ahead and did it. Despite the fact that it doesn’t have to anymore.”

“So,” I swallowed hard. “I’m dead?”

“You’re body, yes.” She said. “Yeah it’s probably still in the River in your vehicle.” She said, nodding. “What do you drive?” She asked.

“Did, drove.” I said, correcting her. “Uh, a truck.”

“Nice, those gas prices though.”

“Heh, yeah.” I agreed half-heartedly. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know, dear.” She answered. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to do anything now.” She said, smiling. “But, I don’t recommend dropping in to see loved ones. At least not until you’re ready. Have some fun first.” With that she winked at me and walked away.

And that’s how I spent the first few months of my death making my favorite coworkers feel like they were slowly going insane.


Thanks for reading!

-c

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My Life: A Summary

19 Saturday Mar 2022

Posted by crashdlanding in Random, Truth

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bedtime, crash landing, crashdlanding, exhausted, family, life, melatonin, non-fiction, retail, routine, work, writing

You ever have so many things you want to do but absolutely zero time or energy in which to do them?

Well that is my life. I think willpower has a lot to do with it too. Lately my life feels more or less like every day is the same and nothing ever changes. Because it be like that. It do.

Maybe that’s why it all seems to go so quickly and I have to stop and think, “is it already Friday?”

6:00am: wake up get and ready for work.

6:30am(ish):leave for work.

6:45am: get to work and sit in the parking lot contemplating staying in the truck for 8 hours.

7:06am(ish): clock in and work.

8:30-9:30am: take a 15 at some point. Get Gatorade and peanut M&Ms, 99% of the time.

?-11:50am(ish): do work things (including but not limited to complaining under my breath about the following:

  • Plugging
  • Picks
  • Overstock
  • Modular resets
  • The 9,000 daily tasks I’m expected to do along with the “here this needs done” extra things.

11:50-12:50am: have lunch. Look at funny pictures in my phone for an hour while thinking about how much I could be getting done with the #pretendfantasynovel and blogging and all kinds of stuff.

12:50pm(ish): more work

2:00pm(ish): last break. Whatever man. Talking to coworkers?

4:00-4:30pm(ish): go home. If it’s a week day I pick The Kid up.

Spend the rest of the evening after dinner either wasting my life on the Internet watching videos or looking at funny pictures, wallowing in self-pity, or wishing I could change myself or my life.

8:00pm: begin bedtime routine

  1. Brush my teeth.
  2. Get kid’s teeth brushed.
  3. Go to The Kid’s room.
  4. Melatonin gummy for The Kid (1mg The Kid is a lightweight).
  5. Brush her hair.
  6. Lotion her feet and hands (helps us both relax and she also has the softest feet of any human).
  7. Give The Kid her allergy meds and tummy gummy.
  8. Story time till she falls asleep (almost done with “Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets”).
  9. Sit in The Kid’s bed next to her sleeping form looking at funny pictures or writing this blog post (I’m now editing in my own bed).

9:30-9:40pm(ish): go to my room, contemplate the possibilities of doing something productive. (Actually I’m editing a blog post.)

10:00pm: Realize I’ve spent too much time looking at stupid stuff on the internet, take my melatonin, take my medicine and try to get comfortable in my hard ass bed.

I’m currently completing the editing of this post at 10:28pm. MY melatonin is kicking my butt. Luckily I don’t take it on my days off.

Wake up a million times in the night.

Sometime around 5am my body says “that’s enough” but I ignore it and struggle to go back to sleep.

Do it all over again at 6:00am, usually with some kind of ache and/or pain.


I realize my posts are boring and inconsistent and not helpful to anyone, usually especially me. But this is how I cope with life and what my brain is doing. I’d prefer my brain to nothing most days.

But you know what, I’m not on any kind of medication keeping me from going completely bonkers (though I wouldn’t deny something would help me). I’m also still employed and haven’t run away to live as a hermit in an abandoned building on some unused corner of a reach persons’s sprawling acreage.

That sounds absolutely amazing.

But alas I have responsibilities, The Kid, people who love me and need me, and I still have a fully/mostly functioning conscience. So I’ll continue to perform this never ending dance routine. Even if sometimes it feels more like a backwoods circus sideshow than Cirque Du Soleil.


Goodnight friends. Thanks for watching. What? Watching? What reality are you living in right now…

-c

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