While sitting at home, for over two weeks at a stretch, without much to do, I feel a sense of incompleteness. I lay there, listless, without much to do, without much to pull the hands of the clock so they tick. I am deeply missing something. Trying to keep my finger on it, I stumble upon the irrelevant.
Does my body not know how to deal with a healthy sleep schedule that I only have at home? Does the lack of work, as well as its abundance make me cranky? Maybe it’s the cold that has settled in my bones and is obstinately refusing to leave . Maybe it’s the 3 minute walk to the mess before breakfast that I need to wake up that I miss. Maybe it’s none of those things.
Since when was I expected to solve my problems productively and not sulk about them?
Then I realized the issue. I am lacking meaning, not in life, but in my day. The problem is, I don’t need to do anything. The earth still will spin, the sun will still rise, the cold will still get worse, my house will still run and my mother will still nag me lovingly even if I lie in bed the whole day. The only thing my actions affect is the small bubble of me. Not my grades, my career, my future, my social life, my health, just me. Me.
I need to recognize what I need to do for myself. These actions will not have any effect on the (deemed) ‘important’ aspects of my life. But they will keep me sane. They will build in me a new sense of time, will muster some meaning when there is none, and something to look forward to when seasonal depression hangs around my neck. These actions will be my routine, something I need not explain to anybody. I set out on this pursuit.
Cue: open laptop and take a trip down a rabbit-hole of content vis-a-vis the topic of interest.
What is a routine? It is an order of actions that you complete regularly. This term has been used in so many different ways, but only recently has pop culture adapted it as something to be developed, customized, updated and adapted. Night routine, morning routine, skincare routine, bath time routine, hair wash routine, hot girl routine, it girl routine, that girl routine, productive girl routine, rich girl routine, to name precisely a few. Thumbnails show women at their best, cute gym sets, abs showing, hair fluffy and in overpriced claw clips, and photoshop cut-outs of green smoothies, dumbbells, open books stacked on top of each other with headphones and a timer neatly placed next to them. I think, you go girl, good for you, love that, awesome while calculating how to replicate a dollar-store version of this.
I sit down, and devise a plan. Screw this, I say. What do I need to do to make myself feel like myself? Buying expensive skincare products and creating a routine with redundant steps is not that. Buying a one gallon bottle thinking that it will push me to drink more water is not that. Trying to watch the sunrise every morning when I go to sleep at 5am is not that.
So this is what I do. I pick up an old bottle and keep it filled with water. Search through makeup products to find blush and eyeliner that I can use every day. Find a way to make coffee so I love it and drink it only out of a cup I used when I was 12. Do my nails with nail polish, unused and owned by me, and vow to not bite them. Take 10 minutes out to decide my outfit while listening to Lana Del Rey and Hozier and promise myself to wear all the clothes in my closet. Pick out a hand cream that is set to expire this year and use it once every day. Make breakfast for myself at least 3 times a week. Read an article out of the magazine that has been gathering dust since I last came home- everyday. Commit to finishing my lip balm. Buy a new notebook and use every single page and write in it neatly with a pen that is lying around with half used ink.
I make something solid, sustainable, out of what I have, out of what I can do. I make something that won’t crumble in the face of disinterest and lack of motivation. It is made of things so familiar to me, items that I have already fostered love for.
And so, I create a routine that makes me less prone to existential dread and preserves my sanity.