27 August 2012

in the routine

When my alarm went off this morning at 5:15, I threw back the covers and leaped out of bed.

I practically trilled to Little Pug, "Time to head to the gym! Time for my routine life to begin again!"

She looked at me with sleep and confusion because for her, life is nothing but routine: sleep, eat, walk, play, sleep, eat, walk, play.

But the past two weeks, I have been on vacation and life was not routine. Life was:
  • driving across the country with my sister and brother-in-law—8 days and 2,600 miles
  • sleeping in a different bed every night {La Quinta in North Platte, NE: you win for comfiest bed. All the flies in the room creeped me out, but I just burrowed deeper under the covers and ignored them—and all thoughts of fly larvae in the bed}
  • eating at restaurants for pretty much every meal. I never want to look at a menu again. That is what I said when I came home, and then today was the birthday of someone in my office, so out for birthday lunch we went. Hello, menu and your plethora of choices that overwhelm at the moment. That might be symbolic in some way, but I don't want to think too deeply right now.
  • watching the beauty and diversity of our country speed by at 75 mph, but even when you're going that fast, there's plenty of time to take in the scenery and realize what a deliciously creative world we live in.

And that is a good life—for two weeks, but I am a person of routine. So much so that when we were walking back into the office after the birthday lunch today, I said to a co-worker, "All I want from life is routine."

"That sounds sad," she told me, and when I heard it out loud, it did sound rather down, rather like I'm a person who doesn't like adventure, rather like I don't want change or a challenge, ever.

All I meant was, on my way back to my desk {back to remembering what it is I do every day at this job}: I like my life. I like the schedule of my life. I like being back in my own space—in my own bed, waking up to my own alarm.

I like going to the gym, knowing I'll be greeted with a bright "Good morning!" by the guys who work the front desk. I like knowing that at least a couple of people at the gym will say, "Hey, haven't seen you around in a couple of weeks. Where have you been?"

I like cooking in my kitchen and knowing where everything is. I like walking up to my bookshelf to look for something to read before bed.

I like my routine. And I like that I have these times that break my routine so that I get the delight of settling back in.

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