Yes, a stock photo. I'm not mad, I'm not going to pay money for a picture of some porridge, what sort of idiot do you think I am?
Routine is something I’ve always tried to avoid in my life, but actually I’m rather good at it. Most of the time it passes me by, but I’m reminded of it – such as when people talk about the weekend and how much they’re looking forward to it.
I’m aware of what happens to the traffic on a Friday, when said people are getting excited about the weekend. Whilst Friday traffic is renowned for being bad (and I’m bound to find this later, when I set off on another very tightly timed Friday afternoon excursion), the Friday rush hour is almost non existent, at least on my route. I can only assume people take Fridays off, the lucky things. I guess if you work part time, which many people do now, and you have a choice, you’ll work from Tuesday to Thursday, and have Fridays off. Seems the obvious choice and affords the most flexible of lifestyles when it comes to fun based weekend japery. (My spell check doesn’t like japery. It would prefer papery, Japanese or jalapeno, none of which quite work).
The reason I mention it is that I’m in at my “job” rather early and that’s because of the missing Friday slackers. I’m pleased. I knew it would be like that and I was pleased that I’d get in early ahead of an earlier than normal start. That’s not the point of routine that I want to talk about though.
Back in the day, my very hard working father would sometimes have to start work extremely early. In fact he would often start so early that I don’t actually know when he’d be starting. These days he does pretty much bugger all, but after a lifetime of working hard in a job which, to some extent he worked in purely to make sure his family were financially secure, he’s entitles to do whatever the bloody hell he does or doesn’t want to do.
Anyway, I digress. I found it funny that on those occasions he would prepare for the morning. I don’t mean leaving a shirt out, I mean every single tiny thing was taken care of especially in the kitchen. I shall explain my own strategy, which mirrors that so exactly it’s frankly embarrassing. As I walked into the kitchen this morning, there was water in the kettle. My mug was next to the kettle and a tea bag was inside said mug. To the side of the hob there was a pan, which was pre filled with half a cup of porridge. The cup was next to the pan, ready to be filled with a full cup of water. There was a wooden spoon to stir the porridge and next to that was a bowl, and a spoon with which to eat the porridge. Next to those was an upturned bottle of honey, ready to be squeezed, and a pack of raisins, open, ready to be poured onto the finished product. My cup which I take into the car was washed up and next to the sink, ready for the tea to be poured into it.
On the other worktop there was a bread board and a butter knife, a loaf of bread (wrapped, obviously), the butter and a piece of foil laid out, waiting for me to make the sandwich. Of course I could have pre made the sandwich but for some reason that makes me uncomfortable.
So, I walked into the kitchen, switched the kettle on, put the hob on, filled the cup…. etc., etc. It strikes me now that I could have put the pinch of salt onto the dry porridge last night and saved myself another few seconds!
This stupid anal process saves me a couple of minutes, at most, but it’s very rewarding. Perhaps if I just had toast it would be easier. Maybe when I get really busy (ie the week after next) then I’ll revert to the toast eating in the car scenario. Eating toast in a rush hour traffic jam is no fun; sitting at the dining table eating porridge is fractionally more fun.
I really was going to keep the word count down today. Could have been worse, could have started gushing about the sacrifices my Dad made for me by taking a shit job. I’ll save that for another day (hi Dad!) For now I shall suggest that over the weekend my posts may revert back to something a little more manageable. They might not – I’ve got a gig tonight and there’s every chance it’ll be rubbish. In the meantime, if you’re not working today, have a lovely day. If you are, then it’s nearly the weekend, whatever that might mean for you.