Today in class we learned words used for telling time in Chinese. (Watch out second graders, I’m hot on your trail.) As part of this time-telling exercise, we had to tell our teacher (laoshi — pronounced lao-sure) what our daily timetable looked like. It was so thrilling for me that I knew it would be gripping for my dear yetispeak readers as well. That’s why you come, right? For all my myopic navel-gazing?

So without further adieu (and in amazing technicolor English) here’s the first installment of my daily schedule: The Morning Commute

7:00 a.m. – Groggily wake up and stare at the ceiling wondering what happened to the last 7.5 hours. (Unless Sarah woke me up periodically throughout the night, in which case I am probably second-guessing the whole second-born thing. We got greedy, didn’t we God?! We had a perfectly complacent child and we tried to double down…)

7:15 a.m. – Roll out of bed and look for long underwear, pajama pants, socks, sweatshirt, and house slippers. It’s freezing in here. Brush teeth and use the WC taking care not to step on the accumulated precipitation on the bathroom floor.

7:17 a.m. – Meander, zombie-like, to the living room and switch on the electric heaters, lights, and laptop.

7:20 a.m. – Make coffee. Start breakfast prep as Christa wakes and dresses the girls. Slice bread for toast OR make instant oatmeal OR pour granola cereal for the girls. Peel oranges or other fruit that I can find in the kitchen.

7:40 – Eat breakfast with the family, sporadically stopping to take Sarah to "the potty" or cleaning up a spill or getting Anna another piece of toast. If time permits, talk to Christa. Inject coffee directly into my forearm with syringe… well, it’s not quite that severe, but close!

8:00 a.m. – Maybe shower (if water available and hot) or maybe just splash water on my hair (if time was insufficient or I am afraid I will run out of hot water). Get clothed in many layers.

8:15 a.m. – Grab satchel and Starbucks travel mug with cool caribiner (how in the world do you spell that word?) and head for the door.

8:17 a.m. – Kiss Christa and the girls goodbye and a.) take Anna to the school carpool drop-off point, or b.) start my frigid walk to campus, as required.

8:20 a.m. – Fret because I feel like I’m leaving the house too late again. Make a resolution to get ready earlier tomorrow and quickly forget my resolution.

8:21 a.m. – Try to develop a strategy for how I will respond to pedestrians stares on my way to school. Will I just look at my shoes today? Will I give the half-smile acknowledging sheepishly that, "Yes, I am a foreigner. Yes, it’s funny, isn’t it? A bit disconcerting. I know; how do you think I must feel…I see this white face and big nose every day in the mirror?" Or will I just stare them into submission–fight fire with fire? It’s different with my moods. I usually settle for the half-smile / nonchalant-stare-straight-ahead-distractedly combo.

8:30 a.m. – Hear the bells chiming as I approach campus. Feel a slight bit of satisfaction knowing that as a foreigner I will not be berated for being a few minutes late. There have to be some perks, right?

8:35 a.m. – Settle into my small desk in the second row (of two,) pull out my textbook, homework sheet with Hanzi characters, and writing utensil. Take off my fleece jacket and thank God that we live north of a specific latitude line in China (thus assuring that we actually can have heat after October 15th).

8:36 a.m. – Unbeknowst to my fellow classmates transform into the perfect pupil; listening to the teacher’s every word, remembering every detail and every phrase uttered, producing perfect Chinese tones, syllables, and sounds.

8:37 a.m. – Shake myself from my daydream as I am being called upon to read Chinese text aloud. Proceed to butcher an innocent language and humiliate myself before a jury of my peers.

9:30 a.m. – Enjoy a short break. Try to beat the world’s record for the longest time holding one’s breath as I enter the men’s restroom to relieve myself.

9:33 a.m. – Exhale as I leave the restroom to the sound of Tibetan students singing (what I imagine to be the Tibetan equivalent of) Ricky Martin songs.

9:40 a.m. – 10:20 a.m. – Imagine my brain transforming into a gelatinous jellyfish as I try to wrap my mind around more and more Chinese.

10:40 a.m. – 12:30 p.m. – After a quick 15 minute break with friends, subject myself to more of the same brain-squishing and language-butchering. Retain roughly 15% of what I hear. Head home ready to head home.

12:35 p.m. – Mumble Chinese phrases to myself incoherently like a bag lady and think about my stare strategy for the walk home. Try to pay some attention not to step in suspicious brown piles on the sidewalk OR in manholes without covers.

AND EVEN MORE EXCITING TIMES IN MY DAILY ROUTINE ARE COMING TO YOU TOMORROW…