Routine

Routine is difficult for me. I love chaos. I am an action junkie. I like waking up in the morning and having no idea what I am going to be doing. I love going on spur of the moment road trips. I love having an idea and then just going for it like nothing else matters. This drives my mother insane. I once woke up at 4:30 am grabbed a Mega Bus to NYC and ran a marathon. Only having decided to run it the night before. Then I called my mom and told her. She nearly had a heart attack.

This is not how the 9-5 job is. Every morning I wake up and know exactly what I will be doing. I know that my alarms goes off at 7:28 and every minute that follows to make sure I will get up. (I am a very heavy sleeper/dreamer. I often find that my alarms become a part of my dreams therefore usually sleep through them.)  When I finally do wake up, I know my dad will be down stairs reading the paper and drinking a smoothie. My mom will be across the table drinking coffee. When I walk into the office, I know that I will be the first one there. Everyone else strolls in at 9:15. Then two of my co-workers will get coffee in about ten minutes. I can count on a lunch break at 12. I know that Jill will leave at 4:45 with a "Bye Monica see you tomorrow." I will then leave at 4:55 because that five minutes is my rebellion. Against who? Maybe my paycheck.

 In some ways the routine is nice. I am confident in what I do at work. I know what to expect and I understand how to perform the task. I know what is going to be coming for me. But I wonder if this routine always going to be like this? Or is this just the intern world? I want to say its the intern world. I want to believe that work gets more exciting, but then I look at the faces of every single person driving on my commute home. They all have an empty stare. A brainwashed stare. A stare that I am terrified to have. Routine is nice. But chaos is beautiful.