As single mom with no family living in this part of the country to give me help, survival for me depends a LOT on routines. This is especially true lately since my daughter's new school has added an additional hour and a half to our daily commute. (I should probably insert here that I am not, never have been and never will be... a morning person.) It's not that I am mean in the morning; I just function a lot better at night.
And so I have learned that everything I need to get done for the next day... I usually do the night before. Things like making lunch, setting out breakfast, getting the coffee ready, laying out both of our clothes and packing my little plastic tote bag for the gym.
Well I apparently forgot to throw my sneakers in the bag last night because when I grabbed the tote this morning, I realized they weren't on top. I looked in my closet and couldn't find them. That's when I remembered tripping over seeing them in the office. Not wanting to awaken Isabel down the hall by turning on the light, I just walked in, reached down and grabbed them, and threw them in the bag. No big deal.
That is... until this afternoon...at the gym. I arrive, take my stuff into the dressing room, get dressed and then go to put on my sneakers. That's when reality stared me in the face.
Yup. You guessed it. Two left feet.
[Mental note: must take care of this tonight
or I'll be repeated this again tomorrow.]