The Routine

So I'm becoming my parents. I see this and I admit this. This is not some 20 or 30-something rant about life transition and the loss of my youth. I'm old enough to be past that. All this is is a little reminder that yes, I've become my parents in many ways. And that's not a bad thing.

So I remember as a kid that every morning had it's routine. Time schedule. Order of operations. The works.

You never ate before you showered. You never showered before you made your bed. That kind of thing. There was harmony and flow.

So I have that now in my current incarnation of 42 years.

Alarm @ 6:10.
Smack that damn "snoozy bar" for 3 times.
Done right this gets my ass out of bed for 6:30.
I'm up 1st. Always. My lovely is a night owl, she happily prattles on well into the 11 o'clock news.
I'm semi-comatose by 10pm.
So I'm always up 1st. Always.
I go to the bathroom and do my "Three S's" and for those of you who don't know what they are well go ask someone. Guys know what they are.
I primp and fuss for 3 minutes and then I'm out. Fresh as a daisy.
I always kiss my lovely good morning, usually on the cheek or high on her arm.
She always jumps and jerks like I've just poked her with an electric cattle prod.
I'm romantic. She's vigilant. Always on the lookout for potential bodily harm is she.
I get my small bowl of cereal, jump on the PC, check headlines, weather, sports (yes, that order).
I make lunch and do the dishes.
She drags out of bed and gets in the shower while I usually dress.

Boring isn't it.

I agree.

But lately, my lovely seems to feel the need to shower while I shave and thus injecting herself into my morning routine. She's up wandering around, on the computer, digging around the kitchen.

It's goddamn pandemonium if you ask me.

That's OK, she's pretty sweet. I'll keep her.