i’m sitting here watching olympic men’s beach volleyball on tv, contemplating taking advil for the fairly persistent headache i’ve had the past few nights (my body rebelling against bob costas olympic coverage, i wonder? i doubt it.  i hearts me some bob costas, with his deep voice and his ability to make anyone cry with the story of anyone doing most anything. in fact, i do believe that i am now having flashbacks to a dream i had as a child–perhaps shortly after the 1984 olympics (oh good heavens did i just say that out loud on the internets?)–where bob costas narrated my life as an olympian.  or it’s possible that i just made that up because i’ve eaten one too many cinnamon cereal clusters.  regardless, i loves me some bob costas) and trying to figure out my new schedule.

see, i don’t know if you know this or not but i am now embarking on the grand new adventure of having NOTHING WHATSOEVER TO DO.

you know, except a giant fat dissertation.

and to be cute, which takes SO much more energy and effort than it seems.

and to flip out about the future.

but let’s concentrate on the fact that my routine, normally determined by when i have to teach and work and hold office hours, is now entirely in my control.  i mean, starting in the fall semester i will be back freezing my carcass off in the reading and writing center, helping one and helping all to focus their paragraphs in their attempts to save the world one personal statement at a time.

it’s a rewarding work, let me tell you.

but really, i can work when i want to. so when the email came asking me when i wanted to work, i asked for mornings.

let’s stop for a moment to soak that in.


because my goal, fine readerly friends, is to be A MORNING PERSON.

let me tell you how this usually works.  i stay up too late–for example, watching the very exciting men’s gymnastics final on tv last night until the feed froze during a japanese gymnast’s high bar revolution, which was kind of creepy and totally annoying because it’s not like NBC is TiVO and is just going to start where they left of and OH MY GOSH there was pommelhorse going on and what happened with that guy who was notoriously inconsistent and you see how i’d be awake still–but plan to wake up early.  i set my alarm, the same alarm that i’ve had since i was 12 and just starting junior high–because in CA that’s what it is–and the alarm that still wakes me up but with whom i have a love hate relationship.  meaning that i hit the snooze button an insane amount of times and then hate my alarm for not doing its job better by, say, growing legs and kicking me (gently?) in the face until i wake.

but by then, i’m at least an hour off of my ambitious MORNING PERSON schedule, and i feel like it’s totally fine if i just eat a blueberry bagel in my bed while watching i love lucy because the whole MORNING PERSON thing hasn’t really worked out thus far.  or my grand ambitions of running up and down the stairs is thwarted–THWARTED!–by rain.

you see how i could get the idea such a routine is not organically familiar.

but i’m thinking that is what i want.  i tell you all of this because now is the time when i get to set a routine.  now, when i’m without distraction and can set my own schedule, undeterred and undaunted.

and i have decided that i want to be that morning person that gets up and goes and works out and then comes home and is all chipper and happy and spends hours in the library NOT surfing the internets or blogging about inanity but churning out page after page of brilliance.

because as much as i’d like to think that i can get things done at night, that i am more productive in the evening, i am sitting here with a pile of unread articles on ann radcliffe and all i am thinking about is advil and the complete oddity that they are playing beach volleyball in china.


we’ll see.

One Response to “routine.”

  1. I will never be a morning person. Tried once, then me and mornings broke up.

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