Until recently, this was my week:

7:30 – out the door to the right.
7:35-7:40 – 11th and Wash to catch the 126 to Port Authority.
8-8:15 – walk to the 1 on 40th and 7th.
8:30 – walk into the office.
12 – lunch.
5:15-5:30 – walk to the gym on 30th and Park.
6-7 – workout.
7:15 – catch the 6 to Grand Central, then the 7 across to PA.
7:35-7:40 – 126 back to Hoboken.
8 ish – walk in and get the dog ready to go out.
9 ish – get back from walking the dog.
9:15 – eat dinner and shower (or vice versa).
10 – chill.
11 – bed.

If there was a hit out on my life I would have been dead immediately because I was so predictable.

My frustration with my routine usually peaked in late February/early March. When the dark days blended together, and my fingers perpetually hurt from the cold, I grew restless.

Since moving I’ve been without a routine. No commute to plan around. No office to get to. No lunch crowds to beat. No evening rush hour crowds to navigate.

I have all the time and flexibility in the world.

And it sucks.

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