I'm not exactly the best person to handle an unflaggingly hectic schedule. With Tam out of action as far as housework is concerned and me slowed by a bum knee, it's a bit of a dance to stay ahead of things when nothing goes wrong.
Unlike Tam, I can't sleep comfortably on the futon when it's in couch-like mode; I have to sproing it out flat, and have my sheets and quilt and big wedge pillow. Take note of that, it'll be significant shortly.
The new normal morning routine is, I get up, feed the cats, start water for coffee and a pan of breakfast, then go make up my bed and turn it back into a couch while breakfast is cooking, one cat is busy eating or having an after-breakfast grooming session and the other cat is shut up in the back of the house. Then I can put an ice pack/soft brace combo on my knee (which needs it by then) and leave it on until shower time.
This morning, I got breakfast started, turned to the living room....and discovered Rannie contemplating a good-sized pile of fresh cat-yak she had just disgorged. Not on top of the quilt, but right on the bottom sheet. At least I'd made the futon up with a fluffy quilt between the futon "mattress"* and top sheet, and thus the mattress itself was somewhat protected -- if I acted quickly.
1. Turn down fire under breakfast.
2. Remove cat from bed and clean up mess.
3. Strip bed, sort bedding into "wash immediately" and "wash later" piles.
4. Check breakfast; pour just-off-boil water over coffee.
5. Go to basement, start laundry, make hasty check for replacement thick quilt (none) and flannel sheets (ditto).
6. Dash back upstairs with two not-so-thick quilts, turn breakfast, pour more water over coffee.
7. Sequester both cats in the back of the house.
8. Lay quilt on bed, start to tuck under, check breakfast, flip breakfast.
9. Go to basement, find regular sheets.
10. Check breakfast, finish pouring reheated water over coffee, finish quilt, start bottom sheet.
11. Take bacon off fire, start egg. Tam shows up for caffeinated soda. Dodge Tam. Start toast.
12. Finish bottom and top sheet; start to lay out top quilt, realize it's not enough, realize egg may be getting unhappy, return to kitchen.
13. Dodge Tam, turn egg.
14. Go to basement, find light blanket.
15. Lay out blanket, begin to unfold sheet, hear "thump-thump-thump of unbalanced load from washing machine in basement.
16. Hobble back to kitchen, dodge Tam (now digging out ibuprofen to go with soda), limp downstairs, find washing machine has wobbled itself askew on concrete half-blocks† and turn it off.
17. Call washing machine a bad name, get all four feet back up on blocks, rearrange heavy wet quilt, restart washing machine.
18. Go back upstairs, remove egg from pan.
19. Finish making bed and tun back into couch. Release cats from back of house.
20. Assemble breakfasts, squabble with Tam (shockingly, we're both crabby this morning).
21. Carry coffee to office, start computer.
22. Put on ice pack at last!
23. Take breakfast office.
24. Figure out something to post -- but what? Oh, I know!
Mornings like these are better remembered later than experienced in the moment.
Edited To Add:
And I seem to have blown up my knee, possibly on the basement stairs. I'm out; I couldn't make it across the parking lot at work with my briefcase and lunchbox.
* We don't use the word "futon" in English the same way it is used in Japanese, I'm told -- for them, the fluffy soft mattress is the futon, and the futon frame has its own word. Possibly "spanner."
† The washing machine and dryer came with the house. They were up on half-blocks, which I found convenient and only later realized should have been A Clue that the basement occasionally takes on water. I need to improve it from the present one-block-per-corner system, and use blocks that don't have old mortar lines making them wobbly if placed wrong.