yoga sundays and a life of routine

today is known in my world as "yoga sunday". whenever anyone asks me what i'm doing over the weekend my response is easy: "well...probably get some groceries...maybe do a bit of shopping on saturday, then yoga on sunday... i'll even go so far as to try and convince people to meet for drinks on friday rather than risk going out saturday and waking up sunday groggy, tired, or worse..hungover. i've actually become so addicted to this yoga class i had vacation days to use up and i actually scheduled them around it.

but that's another blog, on another day.

today i'm feeling a bit "grandma" because i'm such a creature of habit. and i'm really hoping i'm not alone...otherwise i'll just feel like more of a loser. which is fine...because while i like to think of myself as a rockstar...i know rockstars don't stay in on a saturday night making split pea soup and watching "miss america" on tlc...(which, side note, still sucked. re-vamped my ass. it was still lame. although "miss michigan" did take the crown...so at least michigan will finally be known as something more than "the state with the worst economy in the u.s." or, as it's referred to here in the draining pool of the midwest: "the state in which the devil was born" but that too, is a whole 'nother blog.)

i seriously thrive on routine. monday through friday i plan everything. my workouts, meals, tv shows...it's all planned out, schedule-style in my head. lord help me if i ever get truly organized or work my way up to blackberry-status at my company...i'd probably become so schedule/meeting happy i'd self-implode.

did i mention i even like to schedule my weekends?
take this weekend for example. it was wide open until friday morning...and then it became:

friday night: invite friend over, get indian food, watch sex and the city w/ bottle of wine.
saturday: meet friends at 11 am. get lunch at noon. go get new cell phone and ingredients for split pea soup. make split pea soup and watch miss america.
sunday: yoga at 10 am!!!! (i even set an alarm on sundays--8 am...gotta make sure my oatmeal can digest before my practice). meet friend to do shopping at sam's club. maybe clean.

my only diversion was yesterday. i found fresh, cored pineapple at the grocery store so i decided to do a bit of dehydrating as well.

is this the life of a 25 year old? i know it's damn near freezing out right now, so i try to pretend that's the real reason i'm such a loser. but in all honesty, even when it's the middle of july my life is equally as uneventful.
aren't these years supposed to be the time of my life?? shouldn't i be out partying all night long? bringing home random strangers? shouldn't i be living the life of sex and the city rather than watching old seasons on dvd in my sweatpants with a cat on my lap?

i feel as though i'm living the life of a married couple...minus the couple.

my life has become so routine, even my cat knows it. every morning, weekday or weekend, this is how it goes:
i wake up, throw on some sweats (if it's a weekday, i'll either go to the gym or do some yoga first) and stumble into the kitchen. usually i actually trip a couple of times because my cat is weaving figure eights in between my legs. i then satisfy his desperate hunger by feeding him and giving him a couple of these whiskas treats he goes all ape over. quick clean of the litter box, and he's happy. then i move on to my breakfast. always oatmeal. if it's a weekday, i literally time my oatmeal cooking w/ my lunch making (i always bring my lunch...i don't have patience or the bank balance to buy it at work every day). i eat so much oatmeal (every day for the past 3 years...no joke. unless it's too hot and i have cereal instead....which is rare) i even have the preparation down to a science. i vary the fruit based on my mood and season (crazy!) but the preparation never falters...here's my classic recipe:

1/2 cup whole rolled oats (not the quick cook kind...or the disgusting quaker oatmeal oats)
1 tbsp ground flax
little bit of ginger/little bit of cinnamon...depending on the fruit
milk/water combo...enough so that the oatmeal is swimming
--microwave on high for 2 min. 27 seconds--

while this is cooking i do one of the following:
make sandwich for lunch (monday-friday)
cut up grapefruit (if in season)
cut up apple for snack (monday-friday)
fix cup of tea

when the oatmeal is done cooking i add:
1/2 scoop vanilla protein powder
tiny bit more water
fruit of choice (unless it's an apple...then i add that at the beginning...it needs the cook time to soften)
--microwave on high for 1 min. 7 seconds--

while my oatmeal finishes i usually take a multitude of pills that include a mulitvitamin, ginger, and other herbal remedies i happened to read about that week.

once my oatmeal is done, i give it a quick stir, grab my tea and head into the living room. i then watch the "today show" while eating my breakfast.
let me interject here that i don't even like the today show. i loathe it, actually. i can't stand meredith, although she's better than matt (don't get me started about matt). i don't mind al so much, but i can't handle the part when he's doing his weather report and then passes it over to the local guy, and every day it goes:
al: "and let's see what's going on in your neck of the woods"
local guy: "well al, in our neck of the woods, it's going to be cold."
every. day. like they're old friends and this is their own person little sign-off.
and yet i still watch. i don't know why, but i do.
and i sit in the same corner as always, indian-style. because as soon as i sit down, my cat jumps up and starts to get comfortable. he usually turns around several times, hits me in the face with his tale, sniffs my oatmeal, and then stares at me, until i lose patience, tuck him under my elbow and start eating. 9 times out of 10 he'll squirm his way out, sit back up, and stick his face in my bowl.
this happens every morning.
on the weekends, he'll settle in for a while...during the week i kick him off after a five minute siesta.

i've become so encompassed by routine in my life that i literally require a good three hour advance notice should any of my friends wish to meet up for drinks/dinner on the weekends. because by 5 o'clock i've already planned out my dinner, my evening, and (usually) my bedtime. i always have a cup of low-carb hot chocolate before i go to bed. i find it unbelievably comforting. but once i have this cup of hot chocolate...whether it be 7 o'clock or 10 o'clock, i'm in for the night. heaven forbid someone calls after the ceremonious cup of hot chocolate. because the answer will always be "no".

this really can't be normal.

but i'm not like o.c.d. or anything extreme like that. i don't wander around my apartment turning lights on and off 27 times. although i do check to make sure that my flat iron is unplugged before i leave the house every day. but that's more because i'm terrified that i'll down my house.

i just don't understand why i've come to find such comfort in my ritualistic lifestyle. ironically, if i were to fill out one of those "about me" sections on a dating website (not that i haven't done that before) i'd mention how much i love to be spontaneous. how i love to take random trips to nowhere on a whim. because the truth is, i hate the routine. i hate mundane, unadventurous lifestyles. i feel suffocated and become seriously depressed when i'm faced with the same thing day in, day out. i love to travel and to try new things. the last time i've left the midwest was for work about two months ago...and i'm itching to get out again. so much so that i feel as though i'm crawling in my skin just for a trip anywhere. hell, i almost drove a half hour to the nearest steve and barry's yesterday to go check out bitten's spring line...just for something to do.

i'd love to live a nomadic lifestyle. traveling from place to place, learning new cultures, trying new foods. but i know it'd drive me nuts! i'd get so fed up with all the effort and the shlepping. i'd like to think i'd last longer than a week, but i know that'd be my limit. i'd get grumpy. i'd miss my yoga...my workouts. i'd start to crave random things like a bowl of oatmeal and a turkey sandwich. i got stuck in hong kong for work last summer for a week and a half. when i got into the u.s. i almost hugged the customs agent. if the hotel didn't have a gym and a starbucks, i don't think i would've survived.

staring 26 in the face.

i'm going to be 26 in approximately...15 days. and as much as i hate to admit it, i'm having a really, really hard time. now before any of you late(r) 20-somethings and 30-somethings (and above, i don't want to discriminate against anyone who may or may not be reading this...if anybody actually is reading this) start rolling your eyes and making sarcastic "oh yeah...26 is soooo old" comments, hear me out. i can honestly tell you getting another year older does not bother me. look at the title of my blog. i really do just want to fast forward to 30.
this whole 26th birthday has caused me to do a bit of hibernation (the butt-ass cold weather helped as well) and a bit of self-reflection, and i've discovered that while i'm not scared of getting older, i'm scared of remaining stagnant. some hit workout plateaus, weight-loss plateaus...i'm afraid i've hit a social plateau.
i had the same issues with celebrating the new year. this is going to come off as far more depressing than i really intend but...is it really worth celebrating another year past when nothing worth celebrating has really gone by?

let me digress briefly with a bit of history about myself. i live in a city i affectionately refer to as "the draining pool of the midwest". i moved here almost 2 years ago to accept a design position working for one of the largest clothing retailers in the US...give it 5 years and global domination is inevitable. i can finally say i like my job. it's a bit like an abusive marriage. i love it until it smacks me in the face and knocks me down. then i hate it, vow to leave it...find a new job that will love me as much as i love it. then it lightens up, treats me a bit better, and waves a new promotion and a bonus in my face. oh how money makes the wounds heal faster.

let's just safely establish that career-wise...i'm doing pretty well. socially speaking, i've hit my plateau.

aside from a pretty sweet promotion, nothing significant has really happened to me during year number 25. i feel like i should be able to hang on to year 25 until something significant does happen. at least just one more year....i doubt i'll meet the man of my dreams in between now and then, but a date would at least be nice. (and by "date" i mean an honest-to-goodness "i met him in line at the check out" date...none of this match.com mumbo-jumbo).

i've kept the birthday under pretty tight reign so far. i've only mentioned it's coming up as to divert any and all attention away from it. so far it's gone a bit like "my birthday's coming up next month. please don't do the corny work breakfast. and no. i do not want to go to the bar and drink myself into an oblivion." and when given third-degree as to what i really want to do i've merely replied "brunch." only after i was told "sitting on the couch under five blankets cuddling a bottle of organic wine" wasn't acceptable.

i was watching "sex and the city" last night (i'm really not exagerating about the social plateau) and it was the episode where charlotte turns 36. carrie was asking her at the coffee shop if she'd decided what she wanted to do for her birthday and she replied "i've thought about it, and i've decided i'm just going to stay 35. yup. that's what i'm going to do."

now i know i'm not turning 36 and i'm staring 40 in the face, but i feel exactly the same way. i'm not where i thought i'd be at 26. granted i don't really know where i thought that would be, but it's not here. stagnant. single. living in the draining pool of the midwest with my cat.

and what really urks me about this birthday is that i'm even having a hard time with the word "single". a title that has been attached to my name for the past three years of my life. three years. and what really frustrates me, is that i find myself becoming further removed from the rest of my friends that aren't single, or do in fact date (although it's cheating the system because they match.com date). nothing is better than the awkward pause after somebody asks "so what's new with you?" and i get to answer, yet again "oh nothing much. just work." and let me tell you just how much i love it when said body takes it one step further and inquires (tentatively)..."dating anybody?" and i get to answer, yet again..."no." or joke "ha, yeah right....unless i want to date a grad student or a really hot gay guy, i think i'm going to be single for a while". and then, in an attempt to save some remaining shred of dignitity (no matter how small and microscopic it may be) i awkwardly offer up "well...i did get promoted again...and i got to go to (new york/LA/london) on a shopping trip for work."

the olderand more wrapped up with work i get, the more i've come to realize that being successful at work is pretty empty when it's the only thing you've managed to be successful at.

and this is why i either want sto tay 25 until something significant and worthy of a champagne-toast occurs..or i want to fast forward to 30. because hopefully when i'm 30 i'll be in a place a bit more stable...key word being "hopefully".

and this is also why i've decided to start blogging. to vent about the nuances of being a single, successful 20-something. and the annoyances of being a single, successful 20-something that i sure as hell wish somebody would've warned me about.

everybody says being a teenager is just soooo hard. you go through the growing pains and awkward phases...braces, angst, depression, body image issues. gee. minus the braces (although a 27-year old co-worker did get her's off a couple months ago) sounds a lot like my life right now.

so god help me i'm going to start chronicalling it all. bad dates (until they start happening again, i'll just fill in with some past doozies i've encountered instead), body issues, angst, work....you name it. even the dreaded 26th birthday. because as much as i kick and i scream...i know it's still coming.