Routine

I love having routines. I find comfort and reassurance in ordering little chunks of the day.

My days can be somewhat chaotic. Each of the roles I take on during the day – employee, mum, shopkeeper – involves reacting to the emails or shouts of another person. And I’m happy with my assorted day-jobs, looking after people is second only to tidying up on my list of favourite things (honestly, I love tidying up).

But I am selfish when it comes to the first 15 minutes of the day and the last 15 minutes of the day, that’s when my auto-pilot kicks in to launch me into the day or settle me into bed with a familiarity born of years of same old, same old.

Brewing tea and feeding the cats are always the first two tasks, emptying the dishwasher and putting the kitchen to rights comes next. Once the tea is stewed (yes, really stewed, stand-the-spoon-up stewed) and assuming the men of the house aren’t up yet, this is the best part of the day. I treat myself to 5 minutes watching the garden, just… watching.

Then chaos ensues, until 10pm, when I head for bed. Absorbing the words of a book settles me as well now as it always has, sometimes with hot chocolate, sometimes without, but either way a good eight hours sleep will, almost always, follow.

A creature of habit? Yes I am, and jolly happy I am too thanks!

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