do I need a routine?

I decide to delay my workout until the afternoon. I will, instead, accomplish things around the house before the maid comes. Then some of the time that the maid is in the house can be spent at the club. No listening to the vacuum or bumping into her. Also, she seems to need to explain herself to me. Why she has left her sandwich on the kitchen counter for occasional snacking is today's unnecessary explanation.

There are problems with this plan. First, I eat something for breakfast/lunch (some leftover tuna) just before the maid arrives at 11. Miraculously, this is timed pretty well since she arrived more or less 'on time' today. I'm just finishing when she arrives. But the problem is I'm sort of full and, when I go work out, I feel a little heavy and bloated. Maybe I should start going to the club really early like FFP does some of the time. They open at 5:30 or maybe it's 5:00. Sometimes he goes then. Usually when he has an appointment that doesn't allow him to go around seven and be ready to work at nine. This is a concession he's made to 'semi-retirement.' He's not retired at all, of course. So. Yeah. Maybe I should go earlier.

Before going I'm working on printing out menu cards for the party on Saturday. I've decided to print a little packet of info: the hosts, the guests, the singers, the menu, the drinks. I always manage to make work for myself. The guests will doubtless leave these behind or take them home and toss them out. I would. However, I always appreciate having the menu in front of me while I'm eating. I should have done this thing in a simpler way, though. Of course, I also manage to make a few missteps and have the computer do unexpected things. I spend a little more time in the wine cellar, sorting stuff around and making sure that I know what I'm going to serve. Today the 55 degree temperature seems very cold. Maybe because the outside temperature is warmer and so the house is maybe a little warmer. Contrast, I suppose.

Anyway, the time slips away and it's around two. I slip off to the club with my book (The Hours by Michael Cunningham). I ride the bike for a little over forty-five minutes and then do my lower body exercises. There is almost no one around the machines. No one interferes with anything I want to use. It's nice. Maybe this is a good time to come to the club. Except for the felling bloated from having eaten part. It doesn't help that I decided on the way over to grab a Cherry Coke out of the refrigerator. I didn't finish it until after the workout but still it contributed, I'm sure, to me feeling, well, heavy. After the machines, I feel like finishing my book so I get on the bike again. After twenty minutes I'm still not finished with the book so I leave.

I have forgotten that we are supposed to go out. More than that, we have to be there by 6:30 and it's on campus so there is the matter of parking. I have plenty of time, though. It is only 4:30 or so when I get home. But I had envisioned a leisurely shower and finishing my book. I'm close to finishing and eager to compare the ending to the movie. So, yeah.

I change gears in my head. I shower and dress in slacks and leather jacket. (FFP will also decide on his black leather jacket and people will say we are 'twins' although they are different styles...the leathers are similar. FFP thinks dressing too much alike is 'high school' so we avoid it.) I take the book along and we head to campus with FFP driving and me reading the book and directing him to a parking garage I know about. We find a place on the street though, one of those restricted places that has just had its (5:45) restriction expire.

As we make our way back to the car, we are thinking of a place to go eat. We consider Fonda San Miguel but it's winding down time there since it's after nine and they ostensibly close at 9:30. We consider Hyde Park Bar and Grill and wonder how crowded it is. We decide to eat appetizers in the Four Seasons bar. Soon we are listening to Rebecca, drinking tonic water and eating rare tuna and dumplings and pizza in the Four Seasons bar. Another fan of hers sits next to us and he allegedly has met us before. He does look familiar. He made his killing in software sales and now is studying to be a preacher. He seems like a software salesman. He keeps trying to make connections with people we knew since we've dealt with some of the same companies and I keep telling him that I knew nerds and he knew, well, salesmen. He says several times that he and his cronies were the 'X company' mafia. FFP says later that he did remind him of a player on The Sopranos. If you are Episcopalian, he may show up soon in a pulpit near you.

We head home. I'm sort of weary. I don't know if it's the afternoon workout or the Texas wine. Never mind. I get in bed with a new book, trying it out to see if it can be the book for taking to the club and reading on the bicycle. What pleasure, finishing books and starting new ones. I really enjoy picking out a new one to read from our collection.