I used to have a ritual pretty much set in stone when I was younger, and any deviation from it would result in TERROR and SCREAMING on my part and SIGHING and ROLLING OF EYES from whichever parental unit was in charge. Always always breakfast first, then drink, then get washed and dressed. Simple. Should any part of that change, I would have a hissy fit of varying degrees, and generally be mardy for most of the day (no change there then). Over the years, the routine has really basically never changed, only the things that make up each part. Breakfast is still cereal (but never toast), followed by Tea (once Orange Juice but never coffee), followed by a shower (or sometimes just a shave), and then putting my suit on (or perhaps some shorts?). In leaving the house, ready to take on whatever calamities that will be thrown at me, only steps 2 and 4 in that sequence have become completely imperative - without these I am without hope (and sometimes if I get up too late on a Sunday I have to miss out step 2, which makes me as grumpy as hell, as I'm sure my fellow Alto Lay Vicar can testify to). Missing out on breakfast, while in strict opposition to my weight regime, is a survivable act.
Hiatus
Having neglected to complete this at any point yesterday has actually given me a chance to recognise when these rituals fall apart as well, i.e. this morning...
As I've gotten older (and had less help getting up, although my dear mother will ring me on occasion when requested), I have realised that actually, the world will not endand I will not die should any part of the above mentioned routine be broken at any point. I used to get straight up nasty when I had to change it, especially if I hadn't chosen to do so at all. Even now, having a shower before breakfast doesn't make me happy but I can survive! Things at University sort of allowed me to get back to basics; either clawing back what little strength of mood that I could in second year, or sailing though those critical months of writer's block in third year (where I had little else to do but research and attempt to put some readable material on the page). Either by having few responsibilities or sometimes choosing to avoid them when nobody else was dependent on me (shocking), I could return to my old habits, and not have to rush through them at that. There's not much worse than not doing something properly because you don't have the time, right? On the other hand, there's nothing quite like leaving things until the last minute to give you motivation, something I've clung to for years now (with equal amounts of success/failure along the way).
Anyway. Nothing like oversleeping to test what really matters when you're supposed to be somewhere looking presentable, is there? Oh dear. Haaaa...
To my shame, I merely overslept. No wild partying, no drinking, no seducing, no staying up chatting with people through the internet until 5am, just... Overslept. How boring. How pointlessly boring. Even now I'm trying to think of more interesting things I could have done that would have justified waking up almost an hour later than I should have. As you may have gathered, I have been working in the Cathedral Office 9-5 this week, in my on again off again role as Relief Secretary on the front desk. Seeing as it's midterm, it's remarkably quiet, which is how I'm getting all this stuff typed up. The PA to the Dean and Chief Executive knows I'm doing this as well, because, well, she asked! In the meantime I'm still answering phones and sending emails and sorting post and photocopying as per the terms of what I should actually be doing. Point being though that I still woke up 11 minutes after I was due to start. Whoops.
I spring into action much before conscious thought can establish itself and cause a short yet highly effective episode of panic. What do I need to do in order to quick-start my humanity for the day? Priorities: Make tea, but while the kettle's boiling, brush teeth, freshen the visage and wash glasses. Once that's done, the kettle had boiled so I poured, and then hurried upstairs to brush my hair and sort myself out with my suit for the day, including this snazzy red bow tie I'm wearing. I wear bow ties now. Bow ties are cool. Okay. Once that's done and I've adjusted my tie, it's time to get... Wait. Where are my keys? Shit. Small keys are on the keyboard so that's fine (I pick them up but put them in a different pocket)... Where are my big keys? I don't need them today, but where the hell have they got to? Drat. I shake my raincoat on the way down the stairs for the familir chink of massed keys: good. By this time, the tea is steeped to perfection (but maybe the tiniest bit too much milk), but before I reach the kitchen I pat my pocket to discover that clavis minor are not there OH GOD NO PLEASE NO I run halway up the stairs again to discover they have found home in at alternate pocket (what a simpleton). Back on track, Tea stirred and de-bagged, I take the mug with me out the door and round the corner, ready to faces the good-natured ribbing of my colleagues and my eternal embarrasment... It wasn't even an epic error, like missing the day out, I'm not hungover or even sat here still drunk... How boring.
I will, of course, survive. I know that turning up late is terribly unprofessional but we all make mistakes every now and again, and this was a genuine unforced error. Would there have been any benefit of trying to formulate some lie as to why I was late? It's far easier to accept the responsibilty of actually telling the truth. Had I have woken up and arisen on time, I would have been able to have got some cereal to quench the fires of hunger that rage within me, not rushed through Tea prep and not put too much milk in. I'm getting bogged down in details here but you get the point. It's not so much that a shower was imperative today, more that I feel uncomfortable having been late. My morning ritual is something I have worked on over the years to keep my feeling safe - just one of the almost innumerable strategies I use every day to make sure I can cope, and make sure nobody asks me any questions if I seem disquieted. I know there are plenty of people that can postpone their rituals without feeling stressed about it, and to you I say "how do you do that that's amazing if only I could do the same". Of course, seeing as I still get annoyed if I miss out, I obviously need to work on a back-up strategy for...well! Times like this!
That's all. For now.
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