I will admit — I’m regimented.

I’m a routine kind of girl … would you expect anything less from a Taurus? We crave consistency.

Even when it comes to food … I have the exact same thing for breakfast almost seven days a week. Which, if you’re curious as to what that is … it’s what I refer to as my “power bfast” : {whole} plain organic yogurt, with Kashi GoLean cereal — I’m all about some protein and fiber to get my day going.

I plan. I anticipate. I over anticipate. Everything fits nicely into some sort of schedule. And the thing of it all is — I find this absolutely hysterical. While I’m all scheduled out — I am not a stickler to adhering to a schedule.

Because … I also crave spontaneity. Adventure. I plan and then don’t follow the plan. Classic, I know.

However, I always do and still anticipate. I spend about a good 30 mins every Saturday looking at the week ahead — because I refuse to do such a thing on Sunday {I try to never ever plan anything on Sundays and allow that to be my day — all mine mine mine and me me me}. I  need it to recharge.

Now. I understand at this point you might be thinking I’m a bit uptight, a little too Type A. But that’s the thing — I’m not. I’m very laidback. I’m very roll with it.

Except.

As previously mentioned — I do like things to fit nicely into a “schedule”. Example – when I know I have something going on during the week … let’s take Monday, for instance … Maman will be leaving. That means airport time. That also means that my brain cannot “fit” anything else in. It won’t make sense to me. And the mere thought of it will stress me out.

Do any of ya’ll do this, too? And yes, I just said ya’ll. Like I’m from Texas or somewhere down South. I secretly wish I was. There’s something about a Southern drawl that’s just so charming.

Back to my regimented self … with Maman rolling into town late tonight, I feel a growing list of to-do’s …

Washing sheets, cleaning bathrooms, making sure there’s food … typical hostessy/daughter things … and while I normally would be all over this, I find that right now …

I don’t feel like doing a damn thing. Nothing.

Typically this would stress me out, and I’d think I’d have to have everything done by some certain time that I made up {which is usually by dinner}.

But instead. I’m going to take a piece of my own advice. I’m going to not do. I’m slowing down. I’m going to go stretch out in a warm bed with Benny and Stell.

Listen to the rain as it comes cascading down outside.

I’ll get up when I get up … I’ll yoga, and then begin the tasks at hand. Not adhering to a clock or some bogus timetable that my mind has convinced itself is utterly necessary.

Really … in the scheme of it, what is all that necessary anyway? Are even 50% of things we think necessary all that … necessary?

I’m willing to bet not.