In praise of routine

The picture I painted for myself of what summer was going to be like was wonderful. I envisioned long hot nights, bonfires, lakes, friends, and no worries.

My real summer has been, generally speaking, not very close to what I envisioned it to be, though, for better or worse! Too bad! But overall, I can’t complain about it. I wake up every morning, at about 9:00, and try to make it to job #1, only after scrambling for breakfast in the house. Sometimes this can be a task not easily accomplished (for example, I ate a small candy bar and some leftover pasta for breakfast this morning—oh what wonderful nutrition for a growing boy!)

From 10:00 until 2:00, I work at the Ithaca YMCA, which is about 6 minutes away from my house. I do maintenance stuff for the place, and work with my brother. Many would choose to call me a “janitor”, but I like to call myself a “building-care specialist.”

There is a very big difference between the two, my friends.

Then, I speed home, in the van I have come to call my own (it’s white and stunning), to eat and change.

By 3:00, I’m standing at the door of my second job at a law firm, where I do mainly filing and organizing of files—huge amounts of fun. I work for about two hours there, and then leave to go home.

Let me tell you, there is something about walking into a nice air-conditioned house at 5:00 p.m. that can’t be beaten, until I realize the amount of work I have to do there. From 5:00 to about 7:00, I nap, watch TV, think about all the things I should be doing, and eat a little more. By 7:00, it’s getting late, and I go for a run. I’ll be on the cross-country and track & field teams this fall, and follow a training regimen my coaches have given me. I run at 7:00 or 8:00 because I have no time in the day to do it otherwise, and even if I did, I would push it off until this time anyway.

From there, I’m very tired, but manage to pull myself together to eat and shower. I’ll then spend my nights with friends, going out at 10:00 p.m. or so, and cherishing the last weeks we have together. The most wonderful part of this spectacular story is that it starts itself over again the next morning. But really, I can’t complain, it’s a routine, and I’m all for that.