Wednesday, November 26, 2008

It's Not a Rut, It's a Routine

I am a creature of habit. When it comes to everyday things, I favor sticking with a routine because it helps me get out the door in a reasonably timely manner. One downside, however, is when the routine becomes so automatic that I can't remember if I did something. Did I feed the cat? Is the garage door closed? If I really doubt myself and I haven't gotten too far from the house yet, I have been known to circle back to check. But not compulsively. Really.

When the kids were little, routine kept me sane. When I went back to work, routine kept us in groceries and clean underwear. I could be too inflexible at times, which may explain my lack of spontaneity, but I'm still sane. Really.

Lately, my routines have been in a bit of a jumble, and I blame DST. At night, my body says it is time for bed, but the clock says no, so I stay up too late. My body gets its revenge in the morning when it wakes up before the alarm. Then, with extra time on my hands, do I shower first or laze about with my coffee? Maybe knit a bit or read the paper? Then suddenly, it's rush, rush, rush.

Did I close the garage door?

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