Repetition

If I had to give this week a name or describe it or make myself sound cool to one of the witty ironic friends I know, I’d coin it a wash-rinse-repeat kind of week.

One of the animals awakes us usually, one of the cats most of the time. The alarm goes off at some point — usually blaring the oddest song you could ever imagine waking up to. AC/DC or Linkin Park or Jimmy Buffett. The station is unknown, perhaps chosen randomly. The TV gets turned on, weather watching. Andy Avalos gives us the dilly. Eventually Decision 2008 comes around in various forms — Clinbama. Obanton. Superdelegatefrajilisticespialadocious.

Later, Where in the World is Matt Lauer? In a galaxy, far, far away.

Quick shower, throw on the kit. 12 miles, around 50 minutes door-to-door, 900+ calories burned.

Email, work, shut down all distracting communication outlets (Twitter, I’m looking at you). A few moments of gravity and depth and plenty of pointless ones to match. Lunch run or lunch made, work. Email is a nuisance. 4:30PM, time to walk the dog.

5PM: Looking at ingredients in the fridge and devising a menu for dinner. Start dinner. Two and a Half Men. Work.

10PM: Two and a Half Men.

Sleep.

Repeat.