Ugh, yesterday was one of THOSE days. I woke up, made a list of things to do, and maybe got to do about half of them. But many of the more important things didn't happen. And these have to do with helping keep this place a little bit more neat than it is right now.
I swear, entropy has become a constant factor in my life. If we don't clean up the toy area it becomes a crazy mess within a day. If we don't do the dishes for one day the sink mysteriously becomes filled. If we don't change the litter box every four days it smells like an ammonia bomb has gone off in our bathroom. On top of that the recycling needs to be taken, and the normal garbage too. These are the perhaps quotidian chores any household needs done, but when I don't do them I definitely feel a certain weight pressing down on me as I walk around the apartment. So this is my plan this morning after I write here for a little bit: tackle the mess, in all its various stages.
I went to bed early last night, around 10:00 p.m., which maybe isn't that early for some, but still early for me. I have been trying to live a more disciplined life over the past couple of months, and trying to get to bed more early, so I can rise more early, so I can get more done before Stella wakes up. Once she wakes up we dedicate all our various energies to her and her needs, which is as it should be, but that means the only time of the day that is really virgin turf is the very early part, which is why I have made it a point of waking up no later than 5:45 a.m., which is a complete life change for me.
I have never been an early riser. All my life I have struggled to make it out of bed. In high school I would barely make it on time, often not having time to shower in the morning, still groggy in first period. In college I sometimes had a hard time making it to my, gulp, 10:00 a.m. classes, which is kind of shameful, now that I think about it.
That has started to change over the past few years. About a decade ago I got a job as a reporter at a place called "Institutional Investor." At II they required me to be at my desk at 7:30 a.m., preferably having already read that morning's edition of the "Wall Street Journal." I also had to wear a tie, and dress pants, which was kind of a crazy throwback, especially considering that many of my peers were moving in the other direction as the dot come explosion reached full flower.
It was anachronistic but in a way I found it very cool. In a way I felt very square too, but that was what it was. After a while I found myself really getting a lot done by noon, which was a new experience for me, even if I didn't always love waking up when it was dark, and then heading home at night when it was dark too.
In short I learned a little bit about what it meant to be an adult. Or at least to act like one long enough to know what it should feel like.
After that I never had much trouble getting to work on time, in fact most places I worked I was typically one of the people who would arrive on the earlier side. At my last job I would show up at 8:00 a.m., typically the first one there. One morning an old timer there looked at me at my desk, and kind of gestured to me with his coffee mug.
"Yeah, I see you're like me, a morning person," he said.
"Not really, I answered, but I am for this job," I answered.
He looked kind of shocked, but I guess that's part of being an adult: you do what it takes to make it.