My (junior?) year of high school, I had the same routine every morning. My dad would drive me to my best friend's house and I'd sit on her bed and watch her finish getting ready. (That's where I learned about eyebrow pencil. Thank God.) I'd sit there and pet her cat and wait until she was ready to go and then we'd walk to school together from her house. Every morning we'd round the same corners and pass the same hedges. The same cars would pass us. We'd talk about the same things we talked about every day, since we spent almost all of our waking hours together at dance and school. And then, inevitably, she'd say do you ever feel like you're just living the same day over and over again? Like, every day it's the same thing at the same time and you're always in the same day.
Yes, I'd say. Because I did.
We were so deep.
I was just about to write last night about how it felt like I was living the same day over and over again. Only I fell asleep to early, which really is emblematic of my whole routine. Or rut, is more like it. Because I'm always falling asleep too early because I'm always tired because I always forget to bring enough food to school and I always get frustrated with something-or-other and I'm always running behind and I'm always too tired to cook dinner and then I'm always useless after about 8:00 PM.
But today was a weird departure from the routine. Just a smidge, but enough. Addie woke up and said she'd been up in the night with a stomachache. As always (because someone around here is complaining of a nebulous ailment about, oh, say, 85% of mornings), I told her she was fine and she should go to school. Neither E nor I could take today off. Of course that means she barfed right before school. So the day got brought to a halt and I came home to take the afternoon shift.
Maybe it's the fact that it's exactly the perfect temperature outside today with zero wind. Maybe it's the fact that I had to wake up enough to teach people so I was in a good place when I got home. Maybe my one recent trip to the gym (that's one out of one attempts in recent history--jazz hands!) makes me feel like I can do anything. Maybe it's the fact that in the same week my grades are up to date and I met my most recent deadline for the MFA program. Who knows. But I spent the better part of my day at home attacking the dishes in the sink and the laundry on the couch and the litter in the litter box. And all the while the windows were open and the dog slept in his chair and the cats yawned at me like why haven't you been home to watch me sleep during the day lately, human?
What a nice day.