Day 9
routine
Of all of the losses over these last few weeks, the loss of routine has been the hardest on me. I wake up and do not have to be any where at any time, even if I have things to do. I am less and less aware of what time it is, but unlike a vacation where I just ignore the time on purpose, I find myself looking at the clock all the time, for no reason, and then feeling like an idiot.
Routines make me feel less like an idiot. They let me know what I am supposed to be doing on any given day, even if the routine for that weekday or time of year, is to relax. I am not the most disciplined person, but apparently I am held together by the fact that I have to be somewhere to get something done for someone most days of the week.
Yes, I’m worried about money and getting sick, or someone I love getting sick; but the underlying disturbance in the force seems to be about the fact that I don’t have a routine for pandemics.
Honestly, while I am thankful to have the space to read novels, write, make out with my husband and watch bad TV, I will be glad when I know where to be and what to do again.
Then again, each day of this project I spend a little more time thinking about the writing or actually doing the writing. Maybe, I will finally settle into the routine I have craved for twenty years. Maybe I will learn to respond to the internal clock that all artists learn to consult; set by the muse and powered by the work. I can almost, just barely, hear it ticking somewhere in this quiet house.
