That Song by Sara Bareilles, or, Routine

I was raised by a slob, which was lucky for my brother--he too is a slob. I'm a created, rebel-driven, OCD-wracked, alphabetize-your-Q-tips, neat freak. It's not something I'm proud of--in fact, it's a monumental time-waster. I can find almost anything in my bedroom and linen closet but I never have enough time to "Go do something fun, dammit!" I calm myself by doing things like dishes and re-arranging the furniture in my room.

Sad.

So imagine my joy at the beginning of this career-change adventure when I discovered that there was ABSOLUTELY NOTHING AND I MEAN NOTHING holding me back from creating a routine. My biggest complaint at my traditional job was that I couldn't establish a routine for writing or workouts because:

• I worked in Oakland, without a car, and had a one and one half-hour commute one way and a two hour commute (or more) back home, plus the nine-hour workday.
• Often manager meetings were scheduled for early morning, so, even when the Airman set up a schedule for me to close the branch I had to come in early to open, too.
• Someone would call in sick or scared and I would have to fill in for them so others wouldn't get sick or scared.

But when you don't have a traditional job you can ditch all the fences, right? You can CREATE your day, yes?

Turns out it doesn't work that way.

My biggest need to have a routine spurs from the fact that when I first left I would often just stay curled up on the futon in my black after black after black workpants and read, or journal, or stare out the window and think, "You know, I should do something." So the second week I set up stuff to do, this blog, that blog, resume polish, resume polish again, walk here, walk there, get a coffee, take down laundry, vacuum the apartment...BUSYWORK. Two months and one week later I have come to realize that if it's not going to teach me something or make me feel better it's not worth doing. And I am no longer dressed in old work uniforms. Mostly jeans, canvas pants for hiking, and so on. I save the uniform pants for nights at jazz.

Oh, you think I'm kidding.

Despite all this free time, despite starting with assignments that don't get finished and beating myself up and saying, "Yeah, but if I do that then I can't do this or get this written," it finally comes down to a healthy dose of screw it. Making this career change hasn't taught me how to manage my time, it's taught me how to not take it for granted. Can you find me doing the same thing every weekday at 8:30 am? Maayyyy-be. Can you find me doing the same thing every weekday at 2 pm? Oh, definitely not. I'm always trying new stuff.

I've stopped making agendas and kicking myself for not meeting the goals of them.

But I'm still re-arranging furniture. Have to get an outlet somewhere.

Onward, dear reader.

P.S. - This is where the title for today's installment of Life For Rent comes from. In addition to having a crush on Sara Bareilles that will never fade, this song completely cracks me up because there are all kinds of cultural celebrities in it and it plays directly to YouTube (which is what this blog does most of the time, too). I'd like to think of myself as "uncharted" these days: "follow if you want, I won't just hang around."

And yes, the video was made by Sara's production team. Brilliant.