The Importance of Routine

It's very early on a Sunday morning and I lie in bed tapping out this post on my BB, thinking about wasted time and hoping I don't wake Daniele who is still asleep. I spend all week looking forward to the weekend when I get to spend quality time with him. We used to go out exploring but recently because of my health we can sometimes manage a short walk but not much more. Daniele suggested a short walk up to Knightsbridge yesterday as he needed to get some coffee pods for his Nespresso machine but I was not up to it. In fact I spent the whole day in bed, sleeping on and off. Saturday's are so precious that I can't help feeling the crushing disappointment of having wasted a whole one.

I can feel myself slipping away again and it is frustrating as hell as I don't know what to hold on to. Looking back I can see that the distance between me and the world has been growing for quite a while now, but the recent idea of having to interact in a 'normal way', which is what Fred's visit to London next week represents (see last post for more details) has been a sharp wake up call. 

I keep saying it's time to stop denying the severity of my health, and yet I keep having to newly grasp how bad things have gotten. So, perhaps it's time to just stop thinking about that all together. I need to stop thinking about all that I can't do; time to get out of reactionary panic mode and actually look at where I am. What can I do?

Routine is not a four letter word!

If you look up quotes about 'routine' you'll notice that it is seen as something awful to be avoided at all costs. Just look at these examples:

But the truth is that routine saved my life once and I'm convinced it can do it again; far from creating a zombie state, it can save me from one and aid me in putting back the pieces of my life.