There are times when I wake up in the morning and don’t know what day it is. It takes my mind a minute to focus and remember. I can blame a lot of this on lack of sleep. My body feeling like its packed inside a bag of cotton balls, it’s no wonder my head is foggy. But I think most of it has to do with the repetitive nature of my days.
Don’t get me wrong – I love routines. I actually get a bit batty without them. Anxious people like me do not like the unexpected (except surprise gifts on Mother’s Day – much to my husband’s chagrin). I’m much better at fitting everything in if I have a set list of objectives and time frames within which to do them.
I’m thinking you can wear routines out though. Without variety, you ain’t got no spice, right? And life right now is looking pretty bland. It’s the first week off winter vacation. The weather’s cold, actually wet and snowy for once this year, the kids (and I) struggling to get back into the groove of wake-ups, waffle-making, lunch-packing, teeth-brushing, coat-wrestling, out-the-door running.
This morning, Thursday, I woke up saying, Thank God I don’t have to go anywhere besides drop-off and pick-up. Four days into the week, I’m already so beat-down, I could barely crawl into my sweats.
I suppose I could approach this the way Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day, righting all the wrongs the second, third, fourth time around. I could go to bed earlier tonight so I wake up somewhat refreshed. I could make Bella’s lunch after dinner so I don’t have to scramble in the morning. I could plan something new and different for tomorrow to break the monotony. But in real life, unlike the movies, we don’t always get the moral of the story.
Sometimes we get so worn down in our ruts that we can’t see up over the rim. And we wake up in the morning to the same day, essentially, because we’re dealing with the same shit.
But I’m thinking maybe this is nature’s way of getting us to embrace change. We get so sick of ourselves and the monotony that we’re thrown off the track and forced to forge a new one.
It’s times like this that I find the pages in my cookbooks that aren’t yet dog-eared. I purge all that clothing I’ve been meaning to give to good will. I seek out friends that I’ve been meaning to make plans with. I try some long-forgotten yoga pose. I stretch muscles I’d forgotten I had.
All of life is cyclical. Like the tides and the lunar cycle, today and its attendant shit are bound to come around again. But in between, there will be moments of shock and awe and the sublime. I’ll just have to remember not to get caught out too far when the tide comes back in.
So I’m sure I’ll find something exciting to get me through this low point. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and remember what day it is. Until then, you’ll have to excuse me, I have another load of laundry to do.