As a confirmed creature of habit, Iím comfortable with my routine. Most of my days are more or less the same, the more the better. My weeks follow a pattern, and I make sure that the pattern is followed by scheduling each task to its particular day. On the weekend, I plan nothing and do even less. Usually
A day like yesterday is a wonderful break from the routine. I thoroughly enjoy these kinds of breaks, while theyíre happening. Itís just that they throw off my patterns and schedules, and it takes more than a day to get back into the rhythm of my life. I know itís nutty and a little obsessive, but I donít adapt to change very well. Thatís just how it is.
Itís a good thing today was Sunday, because Sunday is the easiest day to readjust. When I got home from our road trip yesterday, there were a few pages resting in my fax tray that I knew I didnít want to leave for Monday. Since I knew I didnít want to leave them for Sunday, either, I spent my first hour or so last night getting them done. That also helped make today a little easier.
What didnít make today easy was the usual. The one thing in my life I can never seem to control is my sleep pattern. I guess ďlack of a patternĒ is a better phrase, because I never know ahead of time how getting through the night is going to affect the next day. I was so very tired when I got home that I thought Iíd get to sleep early, but that didnít happen. I was wired and wide awake until the wee hours, and sluggish all day today. Not that that makes it different from any other Sunday, of course. Sluggishness is part of my Sunday pattern.