A Small Victory

5:45am:scratch ass and yawn

I'm in a rut. Not in my life, but in the day to day, minute to minute ways in which I go about my life.

Get up the same time every morning. Follow the exact same routine: Put on glasses to keep from crashing into kitchen counter. Turn on computer. Make coffee. Take shower. Put in laundry.

Then I sit at the computer. I realize today that I have an exact, never to be deviated from routine that I go through every morning. Check blog for comments. Check stats. Obsess over hits, then chastise self for obessesing over hits. Check mail in both places. Reply if necessary. Delete spam from Indonesian man who wants me to take part in a bank heist. Read local news, laugh at idiots who seem to gather in large groups around these parts. Read CNN. Get disgusted over the state of the world.

Wait, time out. Take out laundry, put in dryer. Put more laundry in. More coffee. Take Paxil.

Ok back to the computer. Read some blogs. Talk to Mig on AIM. Try to get inspired. Write insipid post detailing every move you make in the morning, leaving out that part where you go into the bathroom and close the door.

And so it goes the rest of the day, following exact instructions that are written down in my brain, packing first Natalie's lunch, then DJ's, stop at store for gum and water, take the same exact route to work, varying only when the driver in front of me annoys me to the point of murderous rage and I have to turn off somewhere before I act upon the urge.

I need change. I need to break the routine. I mean, many things happen during the course of the day that don't happen every single day. Each night brings something different - another place to be, another trip to the store, another family outing. It's how I get to these things and the moments around them that are driving me crazy. No matter what I do I cannot stop myself from opening my office door, making coffee, turning on computer, sorting mail. In that order. Every day.

I want to make a left at that light some day. I want to make the second pot of coffee at 2:00 instead of 1:45. I want to take a different way home, and when I get home reverse the order of my routine. Check messages, kick off shoes, look longingly at the bed. No, no. Kick off shoes, check messages, stare blankly into the fridge. Just the thought of rearranging my nicely planned out routine is enough to make me break out in hives.

I like the knowing. I like having a plan in my mind and everything all structured and detailed, and I can get from point A (morning) to point B (bedtime) by following a graph that is drawn only in my brain and maybe relying on my mental pie chart once in a while.

What happens when my neat little plan gets messed with? When there is a traffic detour or a kid gets sick or I wake up late? The rest of the day is garbage. It soils everything. On those days even my hair won't cooperate and I go to work looking like I just fucked someone in the back seat of my car, with my hair poofing out all over the place and my wrinkled shirt and inside out sweater. And by the time I am driving home from work, I am screaming out the window at little old ladies who are just trying to get across the street and I may kick my uncle's dog as I get out of the car and everyone knows. Stay out of my way.

Ok, gotta go. 5:31. Time for the second cup of coffee.