The morning routine is settling in now at the end of the first week of the year. 4:45 wake up, home from the gym at 6:00, shower, breakfast, coffee, watch the sun rise, take Sam to school, sit at the school traffic light for 10-15 minutes to get out of the parking lot while the sun grows more and more fierce to the left, over the middle school building. Typically find Adele's "Set Fire to the Rain" playing on one of my radio stations. Watch the same kids on their same schedules in the crosswalks and waiting at the corners. Smile at the one boy I've decided I like more than any other. He's a skinny, lanky junior high kid with a backpack on his bike that he rides without touching the handlebars through the crosswalk, squinting, tossing his longish blond hair out of his face that shimmers in the morning light.
On the way home, at least every morning this week, I find myself settling on the acoustic coffee house station's song which will stick in my head until I cue up my iTunes while I work. Yesterdays' was "Chasing Cars." Today's was Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic."
The bunny who's taken up residence in our juniper bushes is usually out in the front yard, either when we're heading for school or at least by the time I get back. (All bunnies, by the way, require me to cry out "Mr bunbun!" when I spot them.) This morning I left him a sliced up carrot in the spot in the yard he's always sitting in. He ran under Nick's car when I came out the front door, but I'm hoping to find the little orange circles I left him gone by lunchtime.
I did break with routine yesterday completely by accident when I didn't hit "done" on the alarm app and ended up being 20 minutes late to the gym. Instead of hitting the track I dove into the weights with a vengeance and woke up every time I moved last night with an "ow." Guess that means I'm doing it right, but still... ow.
But it's almost the weekend and a week from today I'll be waving Nick and Clay off to Texas with tears in my eyes so I'll cherish the minutes, routine or not, for as long as I can.
On the way home, at least every morning this week, I find myself settling on the acoustic coffee house station's song which will stick in my head until I cue up my iTunes while I work. Yesterdays' was "Chasing Cars." Today's was Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic."
The bunny who's taken up residence in our juniper bushes is usually out in the front yard, either when we're heading for school or at least by the time I get back. (All bunnies, by the way, require me to cry out "Mr bunbun!" when I spot them.) This morning I left him a sliced up carrot in the spot in the yard he's always sitting in. He ran under Nick's car when I came out the front door, but I'm hoping to find the little orange circles I left him gone by lunchtime.
I did break with routine yesterday completely by accident when I didn't hit "done" on the alarm app and ended up being 20 minutes late to the gym. Instead of hitting the track I dove into the weights with a vengeance and woke up every time I moved last night with an "ow." Guess that means I'm doing it right, but still... ow.
But it's almost the weekend and a week from today I'll be waving Nick and Clay off to Texas with tears in my eyes so I'll cherish the minutes, routine or not, for as long as I can.
This is reading like a diary to me now. Intrigued yet feel guilty about reading more about so much about you. By making this public, I'm assuming it's safe to read on. ...and if it's okay, which I assume it is...read on, I shall. :-)
ReplyDeleteIf it weren't, it certainly wouldn't be published on the interwebs ;)
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