The Routine Machine

I'm getting pathetic.

I've always been a Creature of Routine--well, always is perhaps a bit strong.  Most of my adolescence I lay around being bored and complaining about having nothing to do, at a time, of course, when stacks of homework were up in my room waiting for some attention.  Which came rarely.

But as I've grown older, I find myself ever more in the grip of Routine.  Mark me ...

Weekdays: up at 5:10, down to coffee shop a few minutes before 6 (when it opens--got to get there early to make sure I get "my" chair);there, I read books I'm reviewing, edit copy from previous days, read other things.  Home, usually, by 8-8:30, at which time I work on writing projects.  Noon (guess what?).  Noon-ish-3:00: another coffee shop for more reading/editing.  3-4:30 LifeCenter Plus, where I ride an Airdyne for 30 hard minutes (and here's the nerdy part) while reciting--silently, lips moving only subtly--one-third of the poems I've memorized (yes, I have three sets, each of which takes me about 30 minutes to go through).  4:30: prepare supper (yes, I'm the Chief Cook and Bottle-washer).  5: eat supper, watching Daily Show via DVR.  Fuss around the house--or run an errand.  7:00: in bed reading, working through about 7 books, a chapter in each.  8:30 watch something mindless on cable.  9:30 lights out.

Are you excited yet?

Saturdays are pretty much the same--though at night (as we do on Fridays) we'll go to a movie (or a play) or a bookstore or both.

Sundays are a little different:  Up late (about 7:30) to mix bread dough (I feed my sourdough starter on Saturday night), then off to Panera for breakfast and TIMES (about 9), then to the grocery store for the week.  Home--shape bread for loaves or rolls or whatever I'm making.  Work on writing things.  Lunch.  Bake bread.  Then drive or bike down to coffee shop to read my Kirkus quota for the day (I read 100 pp/day for them, seven days a week).  Home to prepare supper (we'll watch DVR of SNL).  Then upstairs to read at 7 ... and off we go again.

My dad's routines drove my mother around the bend at times.  You'll have to ask Joyce what she thinks: You can find her, well, around the bend ...

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