I always did enjoy a good mad scientist movie.
Between the hours of my wife’s departure for her work among the humans and her return, I’m mostly devoid of human contact, marching ever-forward into my destiny as the figure in Colin Nissan’s New Yorker piece, “I Work From Home.” In that period of solitude with canines and imaginary people, I find something of a foundation in (arguable) humanity by honing and perfecting a routine.
The questions I face: do I measure out my cereal before or after I cook my omelet? During the melting of butter? Or during the time between eggs making contact and their placement on a smiley face Fiesta plate, folded like a business letter over provolone? Should I return to my office after the day’s 3.6-mile run in the 20 minute interregnum between it and the anointed hour to cook lunch? Is it best to set an alarm to conclude lunch or let it end on its own, when it’s done, so I can add another ten minutes before the workday ends at 2PM or should I take into account the clockwork need of The Morkie to go outside precisely when I’m ready to go back to work (the dogs are, if you couldn’t tell, creatures of habit as well…perhaps I’m turning more into a dog than anything else; fine by me)…
I am my own lab experiment.