Disrupted Routine

My alarm goes off. I wake up at 6:30 a.m. sharp. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later. I roll out of bed and proceed to go to the bathroom. Afterward, I put my two pieces of toast in the toaster. Set the timer for 2 minutes and 14 seconds exactly. Once the timer goes off, wait another 15 seconds for it to cool off. I retrieve the toast and place two spoonfuls of jelly on each piece. I go on to do my 15-minute yoga routine and finish getting ready for the day. It is time for my bi-monthly Saturday morning cleaning. I keep my place fairly clean, and the last cleaning I did was a deep clean, which means during today’s cleaning I have to venture into one of the dark, hidden, and cobweb-infested areas of my apartment that I neglect to clean. I decided to clean my closet out. Try to get rid of some clothes, do some dusting, vacuuming, and go through all of the miscellaneous boxes that I have thrown in the back over the years. I pick up a shirt, put it on, take it off, pick up a shirt, put it on, take it off, pick up a shirt, put it on, take it off. As my shoulders began to ache and the thoughts about just throwing away all of my clothes and start new become more frequent, I decide it might be time for a break. I glance over at the clock to realize it is now 1:15. 

Weird, I think to myself, I never miss lunch.

I pick up a random box and head to the kitchen to make lunch. I sit down with my sandwich and began to mindlessly eat while I shift through the items in the box. 

Receipts...old bills that I paid...birthday cards...a sock? That’s where the other half went? Weird but at least it doesn’t have a hole in it.

Before I can take the last bite, I find an envelope with an all too familiar signature on the front. The signature has a massive A that trails off into the rest of the illegible letters. I knew immediately it was the signature of Amber, my best friend from high school. I open up the envelope to find four pictures. One picture was of her and me standing on a boulder on the beach. Another was of us riding in go-karts, our heads half thrown back in laughter, while still keeping our eyes on the course to avoid a crash. The third was of us on a bus coming back from a bowling competition. Neither of us knew how to bowl, nor really enjoyed it for that matter, she just thought it would be a good idea to join a club. The last picture was a picture of a puppy. Amber mentioned at school one day how she wanted a puppy and went to the local shelter that day and just adopted one. I flip it over and rub my thumb over the dust. It reveals a phone number and a small note that just says “Call me if I ever become too much of an adult,”.

My alarm goes off. It is another Tuesday morning. I wake up at 6:30 a.m. sharp. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later. I roll out of bed and proceed to do my morning routine. I make sure that I wake up early enough so that I have time to arrive at work fifteen minutes early. This is why I get up at 6:30 a.m. every day. I wish I could say that my job is at least interesting, but that would be lying. I am a secretary at a dentist’s office. I could lie and say that every client is a different person and that there is plenty of drama. However, all of the clients are the same at the end of the day. I just go through the same script of asking for name and insurance and what day they want for the next appointment. I do not recall any names or faces, nor conversations, as it is always small talk about the weather. My coworkers all get along and even do things outside of work. I always get invited, which is a nice gesture, but I have my nighttime routine as well, so I do not like to stay out late. Even though I have a morning and nighttime routine, I do not have OCD. My routine makes for a much easier day, knowing exactly what the day has in store for me. Plus my therapist, who is a part of my Thursday, as I go to her from one to two o’clock in the afternoon, says I don’t have OCD. I do not have to do my routine, but it makes things so much easier. I digress, you get the point, I have a routine. This is what makes the slight change in my desk area very noticeable. 

“I didn’t know you liked dogs,” remarks my coworker, Shelly, referring to the picture of the puppy from that box.

“Well they are not a part of my routine,” I say jokingly, “but I do like dogs,”. 

This is what I would have expected to be the end of our conversation, as we had already talked about the weather during lunch. I brought the picture into work to help me build up the courage to call the number on the back. I still had her number in my phone, but I was afraid to contact her. She was always so spontaneous, hence why the other photos were so adventurous. Once she adopted the dog, she got a job to help cover the costs of owning a pet and we just began to drift apart. She didn’t have the time to plan out fun adventures, and I did not have the creativity or adrenaline-seeking spirit that she did. She became a working adult much sooner than I expected, but I did not say anything, as I liked that she settled down and I could talk her into going to the library.

Oh, the library was so fun, plus it was free so we both enjoyed that. The dog is cute though, I wonder if I should get a dog? Then I would have to get up at six so I had time to feed and walk my dog and then I would have to…, my thoughts trail off.

Before I could even think about re-doing my nighttime routine, I see Shelly reaching over my shoulder. She grabs the picture to take a closer look.

“You know, I have been looking for a dog. I wonder what breed this is,” she says as she studies the dog, trying to figure out the breed. She flips the picture over to see if there are any clues on the back. Before I can say anything, she pulls out her phone and dials the number. I hold my breath, only to be relieved when I hear the voicemail message. I look at the clock and decide to leave five minutes early, something I never do but just want to avoid hearing what Shelly will say, and avoid the slim possibility that Amber might call back. 

My alarm goes off. It is now Wednesday morning. I turn over to the clock and see 6:32. 

The clock must be fast, no way I overslept. 

I sit up and get ready for the day, making sure I speed up each task by a few seconds so I leave on time. I turn my head and see Shelly heading my way, with a big smile on her face. I open the door and she goes in for a bear hug. 

“Good morning, guess what? The number called me back! She is coming to town on Friday and we are all going on a road trip,” she springs on me.

“I haven’t put in my time for vacation yet. She hasn’t called me or texted me. We can’t go on a road trip, I have a Honda Civic and you have a Prius, whose car are we going to drive?” My thoughts begin to rush in. 

“Well, first of all, you always say good morning to me, so next time lead with that. Second of all, I am the bookkeeper, so your hours are already submitted and approved. Don’t even try to act like you have plans because we both know you don’t. Third of all, you never told me you used to be so cool. Amber and I talked for hours about you and we decided a road trip would be a nice way for us all to get to know each other, and my brother has an R.V, so don’t worry,” Shelly rambles on. “Oh and by the way, the dog was a mix between a Yorkie and Maltese,”.

The longest I have ever driven in a car was two hours, and now I am going on a road trip to who knows where and for who knows how long. I wonder if the R.V. is big enough so I can still do my yoga though. I draw in a deep sigh and allow my shoulders to relax, as a part of me begins to feel hopeful and excited to see Amber. Another part of me is just thinking “I knew I should have shredded those pictures,”. I look at my watch and see luckily I am right on schedule, five minutes early so that means I can go inside the building. I head for the door, ready to start the day, as I know that this will be the last normal day I will probably have for a while.