drip, drip, drip...

I just returned from my third trip to the poison luncheonette a/k/a chemo cafe. I seem to be settling into a routine with this, body wise. One week of feeling sucky, one week of feeling pretty decent. So, as usual, I'm bargaining with myself, and with any deity who may be listening (like papa legba, f'rinstance...). I say, ok, I'll run more when I feel good, and less when I don't. No brainer, you say? Welllllll, uh, not for the aspergians amongst us. I happen to need routine like a fish needs water, like a crow needs carrion, like osama needs bush. (slipped that one in there, didn't I?). Hence, I am DAMNED upset when the routine is compromised. In my routine...every minute has some meaning attached, something I should be doing that makes me worthy and whole.
People don't understand the need for routine. Most people, i find, live these sort of carefree lives where they may get up, or they may press the snooze button. They may go home or they may go to a bar. On saturdays they may just go to the mall AT ANY TIME, or maybe they'll go play baseball, or eat some apple pie. The mind boggles.

Now, I have a morning routine that grows longer and longer. In fact, my morning routine is seriously encroaching on the hours i spend at work. And yet, every damned minute of my morning routine is necessary. I cannot get up and head straight out to work. I like my routine.

At work I also have a routine, or I DID, before this freaking drip trip. At a certain hour I can go to the private bathroom and stretch. At a certain hour I can have my luna bar. At a certain hour I will get lunch. However, NOW, the eating thing is so touchy, that I feel constantly freaked about what to eat, when. This plays hell with routine. Like, Tuesdays were always subway sandwich day. Now I dunno when I can eat a subway. I spend inordinate minutes thinking about this.

I can relax after about 5 or so. Then all bets are off, and the day's arbeiter has already macht mir frei. Then I can watch certain shows on TV, like simpsons and seinfeld. And I can spend a certain amount of time surfing channels. There is freedom in small things.

And, lest you get the wrong idea, I am not a neat person, or a tidy or organized person. However, I LIKE organization and crave it. Hence, I parcel out bits of time, nicely stacked and shuffled. BUT, time is elastic, so I always misjudge what kind of time i need. I don't want freedom. I want time.

At any rate, freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. I like routines and schedules. Routine macht frei. Viva la routine!

*first picture is of the golden ratio. Second one is a sandwich.