Funny things, routines. Don't get me wrong: I love 'em. I love ritual and habit and tendency. So when I say that I've slipped back into the get up, go to work, work, go home, hang out at home, go to bed thing, you'll probably think "that is so sad." But I say to you, BAH! Do not our routines define our very lives? It is not the progression of events so much as how I engage in said events, yes? It is not that I get up, it is how I get up (groggy, not grumpy). It is how I go to work (lately, bumming rides to save mileage on my car and occasionally taking the train, which is nice and smooth and makes me feel European). It is how I hang out at home (Okay, watching Buffy. Sorry. I can only take this tragic rationalization so far.)
Of course, before you start weeping for my lameness, I should mention that I've recently taken up Pilates and golf. So now you can weep for my lameness and yuppiness. It sounds much sadder when I write it.
Anyway, I think what's missing from this lame, yuppie routine is clearly spending half an hour or so to blog about my lame yuppie routine. Because, hey! That's some riveting shit.
Also, this whole site is still gettin' me down. I want a pretty, CSS, standards-based website that shows you Me at A Glance. And my foot hurts because I hurt it somehow. Possibly engaging in the aforementioned golf-related activities. Unsupported arch and whatnot. Aren't mysterious ailments wonderful? I have bruise on my leg, too! Don't know where it came from! Ooh, and sometimes I wake up with strange pains in my neck and shoulders! I'm olden!
Actually, that reminds me of a dream I had last night. Backstory: I've been thinking a lot about how my mother was about eight months pregnant with me at this exact point in her life. She was 32 when I was born. I'll be 32 in one month. But I have absolutely no desire to have children at the moment. In this dream, though, I found out I was pregnant, and I decided that that was just fine. Unexpected but good and fine and not scary and completely doable. Way too casual. Like how you might feel if someone said you had to move your office across the hall. Or that Happy Hour was now 5 to 7 instead of 5 to 8. Just a minor inconvenience. I don't remember many details beyond the belly part. (Which, funnily, didn't feel that much different than my belly does after a large pasta dinner. I'm fairly certain this is not an true-to-life analogy, however.) I think I might have told my mother and she may have seemed happy. Or relieved. I'm not sure which.
And that reminds me that today is my mother's birthday.
And that I have to feed my neighbor's fish when I get home.
And that I'm out of cottage cheese.
Now, do you really want to read this every day?
You can find more of the interesting word usements I structure on Apple.com.
Read my article, Better Writing Through Design, on No. 242 of A List Apart.