Daily structure

_)#(*%#_*#)*(%

Damn it.
Consistent blogging: FAIL

Han Solo: [sounding official] Uh, everything's under control. Situation normal.
Voice: What happened?
Han Solo: [getting nervous] Uh, we had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh... everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you. How are you?
Voice: We're sending a squad up.
Han Solo: Uh, uh... negative, negative. We had a reactor leak here now. Give us a few minutes to lock it down. Large leak, very dangerous.
Voice: Who is this? What's your operating number?
Han Solo: Uh...
[Han shoots the intercom]
Han Solo: [muttering] Boring conversation anyway.

Sometimes I come home; exhausted from a late night, hellacious commute, long day at work, whatever - and I kick into auto pilot. Undress, toss clothes on bed, empty purse, wash today's tupperware in the sink, go through mail. I give my clothes the once over and decide whether to toss in laundry or rehang, I uncurl all my post-it notes of what to do and organize in one long, connected post-it note. I pack a new gym bag of clothes. I take notice of my plants, rinse the basin of toothpaste residue while brushing, open my datebook to glance at the days ahead, floss, moisturize, put dry dishes away, stare at face for new wrinkles (usually a PMS moment), organize my stuff to put into a different purse, and pack new tupperware for next day. I go from door to bed in maybe 90 minutes without pause.

All this gives my day structure, regardless of what I accomplished. It leaves me, the Virgo, feeling somewhat sated which is almost essential to my being. Of course it doesn't mean I don't wake up middle of the night tossing and turning to write down on the notepad beside my bed: shelf dividers, thank you to Donna, fix mountain bike, TJ's get squash, sunchoke recipe, call Mom.

I am inherently a creature of habit but at the same time I hear Seinfeld's George spring up every so often - so you really fold your sweaters and put them away every night? What would happen if you didn't? Would the cashmere police force you to wear acrylics? Would Margaret O'Leary do a reality show on people who abuse knits? I'll bet you a hundred dollars you couldn't do it for a year. Could you NOT wash your dishes every night? You have tupperware for 4 months - why not just throw it away after each use?

In the Mission for Mike's book launch. Wonderful friend, amazing accomplishment

I'm a solo homeowner, a sole inhabitant. My nights take on their own lives according to the whims of my curiosity, the invitations extended, the interests pursued. I can return in a tussle of layers desperate to find warmth after a cold night paddling on the bay; or in a fog after a late dinner with drinks down on the peninsula when the drive home has depleted me and its all I can do to brush and jump into bed. Sometimes I come home with nothing - no triumphs at work, no accomplishments at the gym, no engaging interactions - and I'm at a bit of a loss to find my zone. Do I jump into blogging, play my guitar, change clothes and head out, organize, paint -  or do I find something on TV and zone out for awhile? Can I relinquish that notion of crossing off something on the to-do list and just be?

I straddle the line between Type A and whatever the rest of the spectrum is. Because honestly, after A does anyone really care? You're A - oh, we get it! Welcome! Or....meh, whatever. Because after A there's.....B? C? I guess I'm type B with A tendencies that are easily squashed due to A friends, or exhaustion, or maybe age, or perhaps just a dwindling interest? And maybe sometimes my A just yields without a fuss to a marathon sequence of [insert awesome TV series here].

If nothing else, if we adhere to the live life to the fullest decree - live each day as if it was your last - I will always crave the sense of satisfaction of having accomplished something, anything, whether planned or not on any given day. As I write, some ten million weeks after I vowed to write daily, I'm looking at unfinished christmas cards, a list of to-do's for my home, a pile of dirty tupperware, a stack of unopened mail, a blanket of clothes I tried on this morning tossed across my bed, post-its i forgot to add to the premiere post-it master list and an empty bag of Cheez-Its. I still haven't called someone to help me install a garbage disposal, still haven't committed to a Crossfit in my area, still have crutches in my car waiting to be donated. I don't know if I could live without the structure of things to accomplish - or TRY to accomplish; however small they may be, they ground me.

Camel's Hump, VT with Riley. A grateful day.

Today, as I grew frustrated with dwindling time and a list of to-do's I wanted to get done, I accomplished none. Instead, I had the surprise chance to catch up with a favorite co-worker on a night we both happened to have free, saw a bit of the 49ers game when I thought I'd be flogged by traffic, flossed when I thought I was too tired to care.....and most amazingly, blogged. Somewhere divine inspiration struck and I found words to put down on the page. And I spent meaningful time with a person I love. And I got a lot done at work, in hindsight. And I was inspired enough to write. Really, a day to be grateful for.