Updated: Sep 26, 2019
I’m trying something a little different this month. This isn’t a lifestyle or how to be an OT blog/website. There are plenty of those out there! The writer in me wanted to challenge myself to use my outlet to practice the craft I enjoy most. I’m a storyteller through and through. So, instead of the regular monthly update, each month I thought I’d start sharing short excerpts, some based on OT experiences some not! So, here we go...
It was 5:30 am and the artificial sound of birds stirred her awake. She quickly silenced the bird-song alarm and shuffled in her bed for a few seconds more. Surely the world could wait just a few more minutes. But the truth settled in like it did every morning. A few stolen minutes now meant hasty seconds rushing to the bus later. So, she let out a deep sigh and swung herself out of bed, and like a strange robot, she stepped through her morning routine: bathroom, scrubs on, make bed, boil water, make breakfast, make coffee or tea, and sink into a few more stolen minutes of silence at the dining table. Sometimes she read, sometimes she wrote. Sometimes she stared at the bumps and popcorn ridges in the wall, not thinking about much of anything.
Then like clockwork, she checked her watch. Crap! She threw her dirty dishes into the sink; she’d have to wash them later. She grabbed her backpack, then her lunch in the fridge. Man, I hope I remembered to pack it! Then she sprinted to the bus stop. She heard the steady rumble of the engine, growling at her as she made her way towards it.
On the days she caught the bus on time, she was greeted with a familiar set of characters in her very own story. The guy in the Carolina blue scrubs whose thumbs tapped against his PSP. The slender guy with the pale skin and hair who sat straight up in his seat, and never looked anywhere but forward. The woman and her elementary-aged son chatting about their evening plans. And finally, the teacher who worked at the school several blocks down the road. Funny, she saw each of these faces almost every day, but truth be told, she knew nothing about them. Sometimes, she’d make up stories about their lives, a simple way to pass the time on the bus ride.
The rest of the town was still sleeping, so it’d just be them on the early morning route. Most mornings the sun’s rays spread through the large windows of the bus, declaring its mood for the day. Finally, she stepped off the bus, and frequently the guy in the Carolina blue scrubs followed behind her as they both made their way to the hospital.
She stopped at a table just outside the building and looked at her watch. Ten minutes til she needed to be inside. Ten minutes before the pace of acute care demanded speed and efficiency from her body, her mind, and her soul. It wasn’t a detested rhythm, just a different one, one she was still getting used to.
She soaked in the last few minutes of her slower paced morning until finally the call of the hospital became too loud to ignore. Packs of people in distinct colored scrubs herded their way to the building. She spotted a few co-workers dressed in her own color, a smoky gray. She took a deep breath, gathering her energy for the day and then she greeted them. They filed into step with each other and bonded over how extremely tired they were. They laughed at the same jokes which never seemed to get old as they prepared to take on the day…
I LOVE morning routines! I went through a pretty serious phase where I’d watch dozens of morning routine videos on Youtube. I loved watching how people created new routines for each of season (both literal seasons and new seasons of their lives). Routines can seem mundane and almost robotic at times. But I also find comfort in routines. Anybody else? Feel free to share your morning routine below!
Til next time,