During the week I have my tea and pretty much get straight into the tables so I can have a decent session before tiredness sets in. Weekends are a little different.
Because my computer takes even longer than I do to get going on a morning I head downstairs in my dressing room and switch the my computer on. While it's booting up I head for the toilet and have a pee. I then head for the kitchen and get some food out to cook for breakfast. I quickly nip back to my computer to log in and then go back upstairs to throw on a creased t-shirt and some jeans that may or may not need a wash but then, meh, I'm going to wear them anyway.
I go back into the kitchen, put a teabag in a cup and switch the kettle on. Rather than waiting for it to boil, I go into my front room and open up HEM and Stars. This is where the problems start; I'm now on autopilot. As soon as Stars is open I get eight S&Gs on the go immediately (or as close to eight as I can, depending on traffic) and start grinding. As soon as the first four tables are open I hear the click of the kettle and I'm immediately annoyed with myself for forgetting to make a cup of tea before starting my session AGAIN.
I then realise that I'm hungry too. I've left bacon on the bench and it needs really needs to be put in a pan, smothered in sauce, slapped between two slices of bread and poured into my face. Unfortunately I'm now stuck with a growling stomach and some very bad cards. It's tempting to take the laptop to the kitchen and play while cooking but experience tells me that I'm going to be eating cremated breakfast if I focus properly on poker or a very expensive breakfast if focus properly on the slice of pig sitting in the pan.
There has to be proper concentration on the session so I try to put my thirst and hunger to the back of my mind. I get as far as the 25-50 blinds when I realise that I'm also absolutely desperate for a crap. I try to ignore it but my gut is very insistent. By the time the blinds are ready to go up I'm ready to get up too. There's a distinct turtle's head situation and I'm not likely to be able to hold on for another five minutes, let alone at least half an hour of S&Gs. I pick up the laptop and race for the toilet, inevitably being dealt playable hands on at least three tables as I'm on the move. The toilet is occupied. Fortunately we have another so I turn around and waddle towards that one instead.
I take my place on the throne just in time and, fortunately for me, there's a lull in the hands. There must be action on all the tables; I can just relax a little. On one of the tables I can see I have 1100 chips, the blinds are about to go up to 75/150 and I'm in the blinds in two hands. The guy in the hijack position is taking an age to make a decision and... oh! A rolling bar appear on the screen with the title, 'Network Status'. Oh bollocks! I've gone beyond the range of the wifi.
Frantically, I push the laptop as close as I can to the toilet door and, leaning from the bowl to the far end of the room, I start the troubleshooter. By the time I reconnect I've missed a stack of hands and I also have to wave goodbye to AQs and QQ because I don't hit 'I'm Back' on time. That's no big deal compared to the fact that I now also have to spend several minutes 'going about my business' while stretching to the other end of the bathroom to play or fold hands. Once I'm finally finished with my real life gutshot I rapidly flush, wash my hands, dry them and head back to my living room while still attempting to play something that resembles competent poker. I've heard of working on leaks in your game but this is ridiculous.
I'm now short handed on the tables I haven't busted out of. While I've been performing toilet acrobatics my wife has been busy herself. I've no sooner plonked myself back down on my chair in the front room when she walks through the door. She looks at me, hunched over the laptop, unshowered, wearing a creased t-shirt and dirty jeans. She puts a delicious bacon sandwich and cup of tea down in front of me and mocks me for being a fairly useless human being, completely unable to sort myself out on a morning.
When all the tables are done I eat the sandwich, drink the tea, shower, brush my teeth, maybe have a shave and change into some clean clothes. This is the point when I'm really ready to play poker and one day I might actually learn my lesson.