A Monday In The Life Of Robzilla

I’m no longer working, and yet my body stirs awake around six thirty. The electronic nanny on my wrist tells me I’m good, but not great. My sleep and wellness scores, numbers that seem like they’re randomly generated with a pair of ten sided dice as I roll out of bed, are in the seventies. I haven’t played Dungeons & Dragons in four decades, but I’m satisfied there's no goblin slaying as I make the bed and then head to the kitchen.

Once a bowl of Cherrios with blueberries and an almond butter slathered bread slice is downed with a cup of Williams Sonoma house roast, I steel myself for this morning’s online experience. The appetizer is my trip around the blogs. To my surprise only a few have been updated. Then I advance to the main course, an eye roll inducing bowl of bile known as Reddit.

To obtain story ideas I subject myself to the most hostile environment I’ve experienced since my beer league hockey days. The opponents aren’t men with sticks that have watched grainy VHS copies of Don Cherry’s Rock ‘Em, Sock ‘Em Hockey one too many times, but women who unload their bad dating experiences onto strangers shielded by a computer screen. 

The men bashing is both literal and inferred, and when I state a counterpoint its like I magically become an S-ranked agitator with a panache that’d make former NHL player Claude Lemieux envious. I don’t mean any harm, but it goes against my principles when I don’t stand up for myself. I therefore have no choice but to play the villain, and I do it with the knowledge that almost everyone thinks I’m a benevolent person offline.

This Theater of the Absurd is one of a handful of reasons why I’m compelled to write a dark romance novel. The modern dating scene deserves to be mocked for its cruelty alone. The phone apps reduce people to products on a shelf, and the shoppers are as impersonal as the people working behind the counter at the DMV. If you’re of a certain age, the apt comparison is that questionable used car lot that replenishes its high mileage inventory via dealer car auctions. Only the desperate and credit challenged shop there.

Once I feel the need to detoxify my system, I head out for a brisk walk. It’s two laps around a hilly block that should have its own nickname by now. Today’s new record is just under 25 minutes, not bad for a middle age man slimmed down to a muscular dad bod. The next few hours are a blur. I buy groceries, including a dozen large organic brown eggs that have crossed the $10 price point threshold. I shake off the mistake when I realize they will last me for the next two weekends. When I arrive home one supporting character sketch is completed, and then I stream anime as I eat and digest my typical soup, salad and protein bar lunch. 

The afternoon brings both misery and elation to my front porch. USPS delivers Exhibit A why I should consider cancelling my Delta Dental insurance. The claim paperwork for my recent teeth cleaning states I paid the dentist $166 but the reimbursement check won’t top off Artoria’s gas tank when its half full. I don’t blame my dentist one bit for this debacle. Delta Dental has done Californians dirty for years, and I only keep them in case I need a crown or an implant later in the year.

Amazon arrives soon afterward with a surprise package. I didn’t order anything, but once I see how it’s addressed to me I know it’s Bert thanking me for the Callaway Harmonique wine I gifted him over the weekend. I’m now the proud owner of car detail brushes plus two billet cigarette lighter caps that look like red buttons. Artoria has one that says Eject, while Miku has one that claims to be a missile launcher. They’re not functional but they make the perfect early Valentine’s Day gifts for my MINIs.

The afternoon is spent on my bed with former NHL goalie and liberal politician Ken Dryden, but not figuratively. I loved The Game as a kid for its insider’s look at the great 1970s Montreal Canadiens dynasty, and I love it now for its brisk yet colorful writing. I’m such a fan that I’ll likely purchase one of his more recent works such as the biographies of Scotty Bowman and Steve Montador. Maybe both?

Dinner is a delight. Baked salmon with steamed vegetables. Two dark chocolate squares. Both go well with the rose syrah wine I chilled and opened just before I plated dinner. 

I err on the side of caution and use an aerator to pour my customary six ounces of indulgence. I do the See (light rose), Swirl, Sniff (fruity) and Sip steps to near perfection, and yet it still tastes the same as it did in December. Then I eat a chocolate square and take another sip. The fruity flavors burst forth with a boldness that reminds me of last week’s sauvignon blanc. The salmon also enhances its flavor, but it doesn’t have quite the same punch.

The evening will be spent between creating more supporting character sketches and reading the one manga book I bought for my Kindle this week. Not a bad way to spend a Monday, huh?