Heading Back to Routine

Mid-morning yesterday, as I was waiting for a bus, I got a call from one of the temp agencies that I'm employed by.  By the time the phone call ended, I'd accepted a position, at an excellent pay rate, that will last for the next four months and begin on Monday morning.

There are huge benefits to this, chief among them the personal, emotional and financial stability that not having to wait and wonder about employment will bring.

That said, I've suddenly lost that feeling of having "all the time in the world" to accomplish things.  There are a number of things that need to be accomplished over the course of the next week that will require significant amounts of time.  Time that I don't have quite as much of now.

So, it's most likely going to be quiet here for a couple of days (other than the Daily 5 of course).  I need to tackle a number of things that I'd thought could be more leisurely, spread out projects and now need to be condensed a bit.  I need to take care of the details that make going back to work possible - things like laundry, and making sure that I have groceries to supply myself with lunches and snacks for the work days.  And I have a ton of reading to tackle - assigned reading that will require some time and effort, and that I now have less time to accomplish!

I'm off for a day of reading and errands.  If I don't show up sooner, I'll definitely be back here on Tuesday with the next installment of You Ask, I Answer!

Interruption in Routine

When I left for California, there were dozens of little routines that defined my day.

Check email.  Maintain the lives of various virtual animals on iphone games.  Write at least one "real" blog post along with the daily 5 list.  use a phone app to keep track of how much sleep I got the night before.  play such and such a facebook game.  Keep up on blog reading and facebook.

My crazy living situation added particular things to my routine too.  Get up.  Find out when the bus comes.  Catch the bus to mom and dad's.  Eat breakfast.  Make sure to fit a shower in sometime before going home.  Go through the day.  Figure out whether I have a ride home, or need to take the bus.

I like routine.  Routine doesn't change.  It feels safe.

And sometimes it smothers and adds pressure without me even noticing.

The only routine that came with me when I traveled was writing a daily 5 list, and that was different because I wrote that every night sitting across from a friend I'd spent the day with, laughing, and essentially co-writing it.

The interruption in routine was worth it.

I didn't realize that I was feeling pressured to cram things into my day.

When maintaining the life of a virtual animal in a game, and managing to check in at the right times of the day becomes a source of pressure, it's time for that to end.

When making sure to read every article (or at least skim them) in google reader becomes an obligation, it's time for some paring down of what's in google reader.

The interruption in my routine was a blessing.

It gave me breathing space.

It forced a step away from the routines.

The virtual farm, ranch, bird sanctuary, fish tanks and stores shut down.

I didn't miss reading every news headline from the bbc in google reader.

I came home and reevaluated.

Some of those routines I picked back up.  And some I let die.

And now I'm waiting.

Waiting to see what comes.  What new routines will be added.  What else needs to be subtracted.

But I've been thinking for weeks about that interruption in routine.  About the fact that I deliberately left home to create time to think and pray, but also that it forced a stop and restart of life here.  And I'm thankful for the relief from pressures I hadn't even noticed.

Routine

This remains a sort of plodding week.

So I'm sticking to the routines that have served me well, and just trying to move through the days.

Worship or a sermon on the bus in the morning (thankful for an ipod, and, as much as  I miss my car for the convenience of it, for the commutes to and from work, I've been enjoying not having to watch the road.  I may stick with the train several days a week, even after getting a car.)

An audio book (or sometimes a sermon) on the train on the way home.

Playing a game online at lunch, and then a trivia game online with a coworker to end the lunch hour.

Home.  Quiet.  Emails and maybe chatting online or a phone call.

Trying to make space to read.

The few little "certain" engagments of the week, like house church.

And looking for moments of joy.

I know that routine isn't always helpful.

But sometimes it lets me survive until I can thrive again.