Having recently moved, my normal routines are all a flutter or at a dead halt. Some I still quite like and hope to improve upon. I imagine coffee will be much better in the sunny, quiet yard and that the baths in the new bathtub are going to crush and mock all those prior. Certain things are due for retirement, such as overzealous internetting and phone checking. Others have been sorely neglected, such as going to the gym and eating vegetables or fruit that isn’t in wine format.
I found this blog called Daily Routines and it’s remarkably easy for me to lose some serious time there within. It’s fascinating to see how people create and how the process can be at once unglamorous and inspired. Utilitarian or totally insane. And they all seem to completely own what works for them.
For example, Truman Capote must create while lying down and drinking a steady stream of beverages. First coffee, then mint tea, sherry then martinis. (Speaking of, I really would like to try some good sherry. Do people still drink sherry?) Gertrude Stein has an outsize bathtub that was especially made for her. A staircase had to be taken out to install it. After her bath she puts on a huge wool bathrobe and writes for a while, but she prefers to write outdoors, after she gets dressed.
So there’s that.
So many of the posts are morning-centric. I suppose that’s when a lot of people find themselves to be at their most mindful and possessing the most resolve. Over at Bon Appetit they’ve been running a series called My Morning Routine if you’re into reading about what rich people eat for breakfast (I am!) or how they work out (Sure! I’ll read about that for an hour or so! WHY NOT?)
My fridge is on a truck in St. Paul and the plumber is coming on Saturday to hook up the upstairs bathroom. So in my addled mind, my morning routine next week will involve blue birds bathing and dressing me. Then I put on a crown of flowers and open my fridge where I find a smoothie that contains all the fruits and vegetables that have ever existed and tastes like a chocolate malt. Then I meditate, write something amazing and run 2 miles and it only takes, like, 15 minutes? And those goddamn bluebirds better have the dishes done when I get back.
But that’s next week. Today I’m going to drink waaaaay too much coffee, eat a bowl of buttered noodle with nutritional yeast and maniacally read the entire internet. C