I’m weird. Nobody has to tell me that. Like most people, I suspect, with my mental condition, I value routine. Although the time I post on this blog varies, that’s usually due to one of two factors—the wobbling of the earth, and whether I get wrapped up in something that makes me forget. The wobbling earth changes the time of sunrise rather dramatically, of course. I jog at first light and my routine before that jog is pretty solid. Then something comes along to interrupt it. I have to begin planning the day before how to make it all fit. So, routine bloodwork. The lab where I have it done is within walking distance. Of course, you have to go in fasting so everybody wants to get there first. The lab opens at 6:30 a.m. and this time of year vampires are still safe out and about at that time.
But by 6:30 I’m usually dressed for my jog. I’ve been writing and reading, typically for three hours. I forgot to wash my jogging clothes this week and this was a Friday. Hmm, better think about that. Then there’s the whole question of my eating routine. If I’m going to have something it has to be a couple hours before I jog—can’t do that with anything on my stomach. Will I be too weak with nothing until afterwards? After all I’ll be missing a vial or two of blood. And there’s the matter of my shoes. I only wear my jogging shoes on the local rail trail. It’s pea gravel and it’s been raining lately which means they get a bit muddy. All the rest of my shoes are in the bedroom where my wife’s (sensibly) still asleep. Besides, I need to be on the trail right after giving blood, and changing shoes takes too long.
I’ll need to change my shirt when I get home. The jogging tops are a bit too much to expect even a phlebotomist to put up with. Besides, the under layers are tight-fitting since it’s only in the thirties today. Why all this fuss about going to the lab before work? That’s the magical word. Work. Also, lines have always been a problem for me. Although I take a book I dislike waiting in line. I need to get there before the doors open. Be first in line. There’s already a car in the parking lot, but standing beside the door in the cold has to earn you something, doesn’t it? I’m back home just as the sun is rising. Throw on my under layers and out before anyone else gets on the path. I know I’m weird.