Over the last few months, I've been settling into a routine that keeps me sane as the days go on.
Wake up at 9 A.M. Feed the cat. Boil water. Put on music. The playlist shifts from day to day, but lately it's been a lot of Sade live performances or mid-70s soul. Shower. Race the sounds of the kettle whistle. Use tea tree shampoo. 1% salicylic acid face wash. Fragrance-free body wash.
Brush my teeth. Floss. Rinse. Apply deodorant. Apply exfoliating cream on my nose and forehead. Shave. Apply face lotion, then body lotion. Spray two spritzes of Tom Ford Tuscan Leather cologne. One on my chest, another on my stomach. Get dressed. Two sprays of Maison Margiela Autumn Vibes. One on my neck, another in the air around me. The mix of both colognes feels like me. I describe the scent as a blend of a rich whisky-drenched sego lily and sticking your nose in a brand new Coach bag while you stand near someone taking drags of a Marlboro.
I open all the curtains to let the sun in for the cat. Grind beans from the weekly batch I picked up at the Italian market next door. Make pour-over coffee and let it settle for five minutes. In the meantime, I pour oats, ginger, brown sugar, and a dash of cinnamon into a bowl. Grab a banana. Sit at my desk and start my day of work.
At around 5 P.M. or once my workday is over, I'll grab my plaid canvas blanket and walk over to the park across the street and lie in the grass. Bake in the sun. My reset.
Monday through Wednesday nights, I'll walk over to the Thai place next to my building and order the daily special for $7.99. Walk it back up to my apartment and eat while I watch a film. Maybe sit down and write for a while. Maybe go for a night walk around the neighborhood. Maybe watch the open mic show down the street. Or hit up a good friend and have a one-on-one. If I have the need to be around people, I'll walk over to the International Artists' Lounge and watch a band or vinyl DJ, sit in a booth, and have two steins worth of Pacifico.
Thursday through Sunday nights, I walk over to the comedy club. Watch two shows. The first show usually starts at 7 P.M. The second one usually starts at 9 or 9:30 P.M. I'll order a turkey bacon avocado sandwich, no fries in between shows. Depending on the night, I'll have a few drinks after the shows at the bar upstairs. Friday nights, after the shows, I'll sometimes find myself chasing a story or two. Meet people. Ask what they're doing after. Not every night's worth retelling. But at least once a month, I end up at some strange late-night event or offbeat afters full of unfamiliar faces. Every now and then, a friend will reach out at the perfect time so I can bring them along.
The weekends look a little different during the day.
Saturdays, I'll walk around the farmers market across the street with a coffee. I don't really plan on buying anything. I just like walking around and complimenting the vendor's products.
On Sundays, I'll write up a blog post. Go to a thrift store. Go on a hike. Try a new food spot.
Doesn’t matter what the day looked like. Messy. Perfect. I end it the same. Wash off the day. Same steps as the morning. Swap the 1% face wash for a 10% benzoyl peroxide. Just clean skin. Dim lights. Maybe a little music. Maybe silence.
I recognize that this routine is a controlled irreverence, and I don't want to let go. It’s a part of me I’ve grown to appreciate. I finally found a mix of responsibility with a strong sense of energy and livelihood. It seems repetitive. Something I trained myself to avoid. However, I'm glad I realized the importance of planning. Even if it's just scheduling time slots to allow tomfoolery. I allot time to let it happen. Plan for the repercussions of the night before for the next day. Long night? Allow myself to sleep in. Drink a gallon of water. Maybe a cup of honey lemon tea before bed. Last call means it's time to go instead of ordering more — unless I'm in a good conversation.
Maybe this is what becoming an adult looks like.
If you were looking to kill me or serve me court papers, this should help.